A Little Drop of Poison
by Blind Squirrel
Summary: Trapped in a unforgiving land and forced to rely on a king who'd as soon see him banished away for all time. Matthew must learn to survive in in a world that is not his own, and where every man, woman, child and creature is after the taste of his blood.
1. The Rock

**Warnings: Dark Fantasy, language, adult content  
>Pairings: RusCan<br>**

**Chater 1: The Rock**

The grey misty fog that seemed to perpetually cover the rocky landscape slowly began to recede as the red morning sun warmed up the air around the seaside fisherman's village.

Trying his best not to misstep in the fog, a young man named Matthew Williams who was barely out of his twenties and very much out of his element, instinctively dug his hands deeper into the warm coat pockets of his yellow Fisherman's toggle raincoat. And at the same time, he was trying to avoid yet another treacherous muddy puddle that threatened challenge the limits of his tall rubber boots.

While by no means a fisherman himself, or even a native to the fishing province of Newfoundland, Matthew had been forced to adapt to the local attire ever since he and his guardian had moved to the small village only the month before.

The date on the calendar may have indicated that it was early summer, but the unpredictable weather, chilly strong winds, and constant threat of rain had Matthew forgoing his more familiar clothes almost the first time he'd made the long trek into town to fetch supplies.

A truck making its way down to the dock startled Matthew by honking its horn loudly as the driver recognized the young man and waved cheerily through the car window, inadvertently splashing the blonde when one of his truck wheels hit a pothole in the dirt road.

Matthew grimaced uncomfortably and courteously waved back as he continued to cross the street on his way over to the general store to pick up his order of food. As he neared the front entrance, another gruff looking local recognized him on sight and opened the door to yell into the store and announce his presence to those inside.

"Eh Mike! Dat Williams boy's here 'ta see to dem dere order!"

Immediately Matthew heard a younger voice answering the old man from inside. "Al'right… Al'right.. give me a sec! Stay where yer at, Oi'll come where yer to."

The old man smiled back warmly at Matthew, indicating that he should take a seat on the old withered bench while he waited. "Don't you worry; me son'll be out in a moment wit' yer fish."

He then reached up to scratch at his stubbly grey beard while giving a nod to Matthew who was desperately trying not to show just how hard it was for him to understand any of the thick accents that all the Newfies in the province had to one degree or another.

Having grown up in various cities around Canada, the culture shock of now living in a rural village, and a Newfoudland one at that, was constantly putting the young man out of sorts. But at the same time he honestly didn't want to offend any of the kind hearted people that had so openly welcomed Arthur and himself into their town.

The old man continued to smile pleasantly as he surveyed the sun peeking out from the thick fog, allowing them to catch some glimpses of the rocky shore bordering the cold Atlantic Ocean.

"How's dat dere Fad'der of yers doing? He still sick as an old man?"

Matthew thought of poor Arthur still stuck back inside their bright red Oceanside house; unable to do much more than to walk around the first floor and do some light chores, but even that was a significant improvement from the pale, gaunt and sickly state he'd been in when they'd first arrived in their new home.

"He's improving every day, thank you for asking. I-I'm going to try that soup recipe out tonight that your wife suggested. I think Arthur will really like it." Matthew politely replied as he fiddled with one of the toggles on his coat.

The old man chuckled deeply at the shy mannerism of their newest resident, as charmed by him as everyone else in their small community. "You're a nice kind young feller Mattie, to be taking care of family all on yer own. A good son 'dough… a good son."

Matthew bit his lip to prevent himself from correcting the old man for the hundredth time that Arthur was not in fact his father, but his guardian; but he was beginning to think the point was rather mute among the other villagers.

The door suddenly swung open and Mike appeared with a small box packed with some local fish caught fresh that morning along with a few other ingredients that Matthew had ordered for the soup.

When Matthew had taken possession of the box, Mike reached back into the door and pulled out a small paper bag and placed it on top of the box.

"Here b'y; sum 'Hard Tack' fer yer soup." He told him as he slapped Matthew so hard on the shoulder that he actually stumbled a few steps to the side.

"Hard Tack?" Matthew hesitantly asked, having never before heard the term.

Mike's father gave another chortle at the confused expression, and a cheeky grin appeared on his face. "Dat is 'Hard Bread', might break yer teeth if you eat it as is, but it'll taste great soaked up in some nice soup. Good fer healing up your sick fad'der."

Mike piped up beside him in a teasing tone "Or if you hate it, you could always just keep a piece in your pocket, keep dem fairy folk away. Dey can't stand dat dere Hard Tack."

Both men laughed at Matthew's confused and doubtful expression, before the older man elbowed his son into offering Matthew a ride back to his house, but before he could do so, the young blonde politely declined

"N-no thanks… I like the walk along the coast. It's… beautiful." Matthew shyly admitted.

"Aye… dat it is…" the old man nodded sagely in agreement while Mike only shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

"Alright... you knows yourself. Just don't be falling off no cliffs. I donts feel like going for a swim today." Again Mike began to laugh as he walked back into the store, his father waving goodbye to the gentle young man as he prepared to make the trek back home.

The walk back along the cliffs and coves might not have seemed as beautiful to most people, with the cold water crashing hard below onto the jagged rocks, and the sun still mostly hidden behind the dark clouds above.

But to Matthew, it had to be the most relaxing and beautiful scenery he'd ever seen, but that was mostly because he hadn't seen much.

All his life Arthur had whisked him from one big city to the next, almost seeming to choose the busiest and most populated places with the least vegetation he could find.

This in itself might have been fine if Matthew had only been able to stay long enough to make friends or get to know his surroundings. But they'd always moved before there had been any chance of that.

And whether it was the lifestyle, the constant change of location, it was Arthur who had ultimately paid the price for it in the end.

Matthew hadn't noticed his decline at first; living with Arthur almost every second of the day he was actually the last person to notice.

But over the years, bit-by-bit, Arthur had started to… fade. At first he was just tired all the time, not as energetic as he used to be. Then… it was other things, loss of appetite, gaunt features, and many other similar symptoms… until it became too much and something had to be done.

No one was more surprised than Matthew when Arthur called him into his sickroom one morning and calmly declared with trepidation laced on his voice that they were going to move once again, but this time to a small village on the coast of Canada's most eastern province.

Had Arthur actually listened to Matthew and gone to see a doctor, the young man was sure that the medicals professionals would have agreed that moving was the last thing Arthur needed to be doing in his condition, but as it was, they were packed up within the week.

Matthew would never forget the day when they'd arrived at their new home and he'd helped his sickly guardian out of the car.

As Arthur surveyed the Ocean cliffs, he titled his head back and took a deep breath as the spray from the sea washed over him, closing his eyes as if the very act alone caused him pure ecstasy.

When he finally exhaled the salty air, he reopened his eyes and Matthew could have sworn the once dull globes were now sparkling with newfound health.

The weeks that followed proved Arthur had right all along… yet again. He did indeed grow strong, almost by the minute. But with Arthur's building strength, came the end to some of the freedom that Matthew had started to enjoy while his guardian had been incapacitated.

Arthur had always been a strict taskmaster with a rigid set of rules; he'd never been quite as bad as in their latest home by the sea.

Most of the time Arthur was a nervous wreck whenever Matthew was gone more than a few minutes outside of the house. And he had set up a new set of rules that Matthew was fairly certain that no one else in the village had to abide by.

Things like, Matthew was to remain close to Arthur at almost all times during the day, saving the necessary trips for supplies into the town. And even those were supposed to be kept short, and he was absolutely forbidden to stray from the road.

Matthew had a ridiculous curfew that started long before nightfall, and he was under no circumstances allowed to leave the house during the night for any reason what so ever.

The funny thing was, when Matthew _was_ alone with Arthur, it was like the other man wanted nothing to do with him. Their conversations were stilted at best, punctuated now and then only by Arthur's short temper. And any overt signs of affection on Matthew's part were greeted with what seemed like barely contained disdain. To say Arthur was 'stuffy' would have been an under exaggeration.

Matthew could not remember a single time in his life that his guardian had ever offered any form of physical contact by choice, other than the minimal amount needed to raise a child. Arthur never hugged him, stroked his hair, or even patted his back to tell him a job well done… not like he'd seen other parents do with their children.

Arthur quite literally kept Matthew at arms distance, even going so far as to sometimes move to the other side of the room when Matthew entered it. It was not particularly hard to see how he'd grown up into the recluse young man he was today. How could he NOT be shy of intimacy, both physical and mental, when he couldn't even share such personal things with the only 'family' he had ever known.

It was enough to make a guy feel just a tad self-conscious… and Matthew did in fact feel just that way…

He would sometimes wonder what it was about him that Arthur so clearly disliked, and Matthew compensated by trying to be as obedient and helpful as he could, but it only ever seemed to make Arthur retreat further away.

These past few years where Matthew had been forced to care for his guardian had actually been some of the most meaningful to him, because it had forced Arthur to let him get close, whether or not he had wanted him there.

And…yet despite all this, Matthew was sure that Arthur was at least somewhat fond of him. He seemed to enjoy teaching him new things, and he had always been genuinely concerned when Matthew had been hurt, or scared… or simply unhappy.

He just wasn't the sort of person who was affectionate, something Matthew thought he might eventually learn to accept… one day.

Deep in thought, Matthew tried to let his mind center more on the lovely view and less on what waited for him at home as he stretched out his morning walk to the village as long as possible. The soothing sounds of the waves crashing below doing just as much good for him, as it apparently did for Arthur.

He had secretly hoped that maybe they would end up staying here for a good amount time since Arthur was clearly doing better in the fresh salt air. That they would maybe even stay long enough so that Matthew could take up a trade and help support their small family, even though he knew that Arthur did not lack for any amount of funds.

But his hopes were constantly being dashed every time his surly guardian would loudly proclaim that they'd be leaving the moment his health had recovered enough.

It was a great contradiction because Matthew could clearly see that Arthur was happier here then he'd been in a long time, but he was also more nervous than ever before, he'd never been this overprotective in the past.

His thoughts now irreversibly centered on his blonde wild haired guardian as Matthew continued to meander down the long dirt road, dodging yet more puddles, while being gently misted by the sea spray.

As he saw his rickety old house appear in the distance, Matthew's steps began to slow even more, trying to enjoy every last minute of his time alone in the wild elements of the coast.

Out of no where, an unexpected sound in the distance made Matthew pause in his steps, as he looked off to his right where a particularly dangerous looking cliff was situated. Behind the loud crashing of the waves below, Matthew could _swear_ he heard… some music.

It was soft and melodic and it almost seemed to… call to him.

As if some strange urge had overtaken him, Matthew stepped off of the well worn dirt road, and on to the straggly grass highland near the cliffs. He slowly, but cautiously, walked closer to cliff he knew could bring sudden death if he took a wrong step.

Carefully peering over the edge, Matthew looked down at the black rocks far below for anything that could be the source of the strange music dancing in the wind… but he saw nothing.

Only rocks, and water, and even more rocks.

Tilting his head to the side, Matthew noticed something at the very bottom of the cliff that he'd never bothered to look for before.

Being barraged over and over by wave after wave was a small tree that had somehow survived against all odds of probability, clinging to life in the way that all plants did in this land. It looked to maybe be a birch tree or something else similar for it had a silvery tint to it, but really Mathew was too far up to get a good look at the small tree so far below.

The sea spray was so strong on the cliff that his wavy blonde hair was now nearly soaked through as it clung to the sides of his head, little salt-water droplets tracing a fine path down his chin and neck. He swiped at them irritably while also wiping his now foggy glasses before leaning forward just a bit more to see if he could get a better look.

But he nearly fell forward instead when he was suddenly jostled by a strong grip grabbing his upper arm and throwing him backwards so violently that the box he'd been carrying flew out of his hands and onto the ground, along with himself, as it dispersed all of its contents.

"Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing Matthew?"

Matthew looked up from where he laid sprawled out on the grass, shocked that his guardian was not only so far from the house, but had had enough energy to forcibly pull him away from the cliff. In the back of his mind, he noticed that the strange music he could have sworn he'd heard… was now gone.

"I-I… thought I heard something… b-but… I…" his voice trailed off, it all sounded too ridiculous now that he'd said it out loud.

But Arthur didn't laugh at him, in fact, if anything he grew angrier, physically grabbing the thick material of Matthew's jacket that covered his arm, while picking up the fallen groceries.

"I told you in no uncertain terms that you were to walk straight back to the house, that you were to _never_ step off of that road… did I not make myself clearl enough?" Arthur yelled as he pushed and pulled at Matthew's arm while they walked back to the house.

'Y-yes… Arthur… b-but I wasn't going to fall over… I swear… I just wanted to look…" He was cut off again as Arthur kicked the door in and threw Matthew into the house.

"That is it!" Arthur exclaimed, slamming the door behind him. "We have clearly stayed too long; I knew I should never have come back here."

"B-back here? W-wait… leave? No Arthur, we just got here… and I was going to ask to apprentice as a fisherman… and… and… maybe learn to swim… and…" Arthur's eyes went wide during Matthew's babbling, and if he'd been angry before, he was livid now.

"You? Out on the sea… on your own? Are you mad? Absolutely not! We are leaving… tomorrow, if possible. So I suggest you go upstairs and pack…" Arthur stopped his ranting when he noticed the absolute crestfallen expression on his charge.

Matthew's head was hung low, and he was opening and closing his hands as he gripped the side of his raincoat in a sign of the frustrated emotions he was feeling inside.

Arthur could count the times on his one hand that the normally passive aggressive Matthew had ever talked back to him… and he couldn't even remember the last time Matthew had asked him for something.

"I-I'm sorry Arthur… I'm sorry I didn't listen to your rules… I'm sorry I'm so disobedient… p-please don't make us leave… I promise I won't ever look at the cliffs again, or talk to anyone if you don't want, please… I don't want to move again."

But sadly Matthew's plea and determination to stay only furthered Arthur's resolve that they'd stayed too long already.

Arthur let out a long sigh, as if releasing all his pent up anger and worry, but he made no move to get closer to the shaking boy beside him, choosing to instead lean against the wall for support.

"Matthew… it's not your fault… not really. It's my fault, I should never have brought you here. But… but when we get back to the city… you could get a job there if you'd really like. I've always encouraged you to make friends, to meet and talk to other people… just not here… just not in this place."

Matthew did not bother to lift his head, and instead whispered dejectedly. "What does it matter… if we're just going to move again…"

Arthur pushed himself away from the small hallway in avoidance of the issue and walked into the nearby living room to sit down on the old sofa, having taxed all of his energy in his hurry to get to his young charge.

"I'm sorry for that Matthew, I really, truly am… and I know it's hard to believe sometimes, but I probably hate the cities more than you could ever imagine. But… this is our life… for better or worse… we have to move."

Watching as Matthew slunk into the living room to take a seat on the sofa next to him, Arthur immediately stood back up when he felt Matthew's wet coat brush against his arm.

Arthur rubbed the spot as if it now caused him some discomfort as he walked further away and tried to ignore how badly Matthew flinched when he saw the action.

Matthew should have known better than to expect sympathy from Arthur, who would rather show a complete stranger some comfort than him. The thought was enough to embolden Matthew to look up at his guardian and ask him something he'd always been too afraid or simply too compliant to ask before.

"Arthur… are you my father?"

The older man's eyes went wide, as if he couldn't even begin to understand where Matthew would get such a ludicrous idea. "D-don't be ridiculous, you know full well I'm not father!"

Now wringing his hands while he still wore his thick fisherman's jacket, Matthew felt ashamed for asking in the first place. Of course he'd known that, he just didn't understand it.

"But… then why do you keep me around if I'm only a burden to you…"

"A burden?" Arthur proclaimed in surprise, scoffing just as much at the idea as of him being related to Matthew. "You've never been any such thing. In fact if anything, you've probably the only thing that's kept me sane all these years…. And Matthew…"

His charge looked up, pure hope in his eyes that Arthur might let him in on… something… anything about either of their pasts, or why they moved around so much, or just what was going on in the other man's head.

He was naturally disappointed when Arthur inevitably changed the subject.

"Y-you're not a disobedient child you know… you've a good person… perhaps a bit too curious for your own good… but…good none the less." Arthur smiled ruefully. "I've never raised anyone as well behaved as you before. So... don't go blaming yourself for things that are out of your control… it's just… certain things can't be helped."

Matthew scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, not remember any other children living with them as he was growing up. "Who else have you raised?"

Arthur swallowed uncomfortably. "No one of course… you're twisting my words… I just meant… I'm just trying to say… oh forget it…. It's not important. Where hell are those groceries, I believe you promised me fish soup tonight."

Matthew sighed softly to himself. He could always tell that Arthur was trying, he really was… but he inevitably held back in the end…

It was like two perfect strangers living in the same house, except Arthur knew everything about him, and he… he knew nothing about either of them.

Although the mood had lightened somewhat, and he seemed to have been forgiven, there was no doubt in his mind that Arthur was very serious when he said that they would be moving tomorrow for good.

He didn't particularly feel like making lunch anymore, and might have stayed on the couch for much longer to sulk had he not heard his guardian cry out in pain.

Matthew immediately ran into the kitchen to see Arthur, who had been placing the fish on the counter, now holding his hand close to his chest as if he'd been burnt.

On the ground was the bag of Hard Tack that Mike and his son had given him earlier free of charge.

Looking over at his Guardian, Matthew noticed that there was now a line of sweat on Arthur's brow, and that he was breathing a little fast.

His complexion had also turned a touch green, a sicklier version of the colour of his eyes. But as soon as he noticed Matthew, Arthur quickly schooled his expression.

"Paper cut." He explained with an embarrassed chuckle.

Matthew leaned down to pick up the fallen bag, now broken open, and placed it back on the counter.

"What else did you buy today Matthew?" Arthur asked casually, as he went back to putting the fish away.

"Oh, well… Mike gave us some hard bread for your soup; he said it would make you feel better."

Arthur grimaced, but then guiltily admitted to Matthew his feelings on the subject. "Uhg… Hard Tack… I can't stand the stuff. It's too tough and I can't abide the taste… but you know… it does make a good snack I hear. You should… you should probably load your coat pockets up with some for later. You never know when you could be hungry."

It was certainly an odd comment to come from Arthur; as he wasn't usually the "mother-hen" type despite his over protective tendencies.

"S-sure Arthur…" Matthew agreed anyways, grabbing a handful of the small biscuits and stuffing them into his coat pocket as he took off the almost dry jacket and hung it up near the front door. He then walked back to help prepare their mid day meal.

The rest of the day went by very quietly, neither man particularly in the mood to be social after that morning. And true to word, Arthur was busy on the phone making preparations for a rapid move, only stopping once to ask Matthew how he felt about 'Downtown Montreal'.

Matthew didn't feel great about it at all.

Matthew barely touched his supper that night, and the thoughts of tomorrow's move did nothing but lower his sprits further as the evening went on. He decided to escape the stifling atmosphere early in favour of some time alone and a good night's sleep.

Arthur allowed it, but caught him just as he was about to go up the stairs, and with a somewhat shaky hand slipped him a piece of Hard Tack into his palm.

"In case… you get hungry tonight, you didn't have any supper… and I certainly won't eat these disgusting things. J-just… make sure to lock your windows tonight."

Matthew eyed the bread warily, but took it nonetheless as he was eager to get back to his room where he could be alone.

When he was finally ready for bed, Matthew carelessly threw the Hard Tack onto his nightstand and walked over to lock his windows as directed.

Arthur always told him to do this every night, even though Matthew was fairly certain that no one was going to rob them blind in the middle of Nowhere, Newfoundland.

Thinking about this, Matthew realized he was still bitter about being forced to move, yet again, especially before he had had the chance to really come out of his shell and make some friends in this new town. So in a rare act of defiance, Matthew unlocked the windows again, and instead opened them up wide to let in the cool sea breeze air for the last time that he'd get to enjoy it.

He then laid himself down onto his bed, and tried not to let his eyes water up as the crashing waves lulled him to sleep.

"_What did you say your name was again?" The stranger asked Matthew as they slowly walked away from the water's edge._

"_M-matthew… b-but who are you?" The little boy asked, glad to be warm once again. _

"_It doesn't really matter who I am… or who I was… just who I'm gong to be?" The man answered._

_But the little boy didn't understand._

Matthew wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but it was already well into the night when he was awoken by the sound of the same melody he'd heard only that morning.

The soft music that could barely be heard in the loud wind shouldn't have been enough to wake him… but somehow it did anyways.

And as he listened to it seeping into his room from the open window, Matthew once again had the undeniable urge to discover the source of the strange tune.

Quickly, and very quietly, changing into a pair of jeans, and a warm red wool knit sweater that was typical for the area, Matthew slowly cracked his bedroom door open and stepped out into the hallway.

…only to very nearly end his trip early when he almost accidentally tripped over a prone body lying in the hallway.

It was Arthur…

Matthew's heart clenched in worry before reason took over and it quickly turned back into annoyance.

His guardian had fallen fast asleep while leaning against the wall next to his door. Matthew was sure he had stayed there only to make sure that Matthew didn't do something… well like this.

It was more than enough to push Matthew through his initial nervousness, and he stepped around the sleeping man with a grim determination.

Arthur was dead to the world, obviously having greatly overexerted himself that day. His guardian was, after all, still genuinely sick.

Matthew had no problems creeping down the stairs to pull on his yellow toggle jacket, and slip into his tall rubber boats. Then as quietly as he could, he unlocked the latch, and stepped outside into the night.

Once out in the fresh air, the music hit Matthew like he'd walked into a wall.

It was no longer a soft melodic distraction in the wind; it was now practically ringing in his ears, so much so that Matthew almost ran in the direction that it was coming from, his natural curiosity increasing tenfold.

The grassy cliff was wet from the constant ocean spray, and he barely missed slipping a few times as he neared the cliff edge in his hurry to get to where he knew the music was the loudest.

Slowing down as he approached the ledge, Matthew peered over the edge just like before, although expecting to see little or nothing in the low light that the moon offered as it crept past the dark clouds.

But when he did lean over, Matthew was surprised to clearly see the same small tree that he'd noticed earlier… only this time, it was glowing.

There was no other way to describe it; the little tree was emitting a silver radiance that throbbed with the crashing of the waves below, as if feeding off of the salty water.

All Matthew could do was stare in disbelief at the sight, completely unable to move until he saw something else even less likely, a small glowing object, suddenly split away from the tree and faster than should have been possible, zip up the side of the cliff… heading straight for him.

The small… creature… buzzed and whizzed by as it flew hesitantly around his head until stopping abruptly directly in front of Matthew's face, while still keeping its distance.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it had not been this.

The small glowing being had the body of… well… a human… but he was no bigger than the palm of Matthew's hand. His features were almost nonexistent, save for small glowing green eyes, pointy ears and an unsmiling mouth. Otherwise it had an androgynous body with no hair what so ever, not even on its head. It was completely covered in the same pale green colour all over, and appeared to be held aloft be delicate looking wings, which looked like they'd be more at home on a dragonfly than on this strange mysterious thing.

With a trembling hand, Matthew reached up for… whatever it was to… to show that he meant it no harm. He watched as the small creature titled its head, considering what course of action to take.

The little creature suddenly caught a scent of something in the air that made its tiny eyes glow bright, and it quickly flew over to Matthew's outstretched hand, all pretense of hesitation now gone.

Matthew couldn't help the genuine smile that broke across his when the little being gently landed on his palm, tickling him as it did so.

The moment their skin made contact, it was like Matthew could _feel_ its energy seeping into his hand where the creature stood.

But he barely had a chance to enjoy the sensation when the little being suddenly opened his mouth wide to reveal a surprisingly large set of sharp pointy teeth.

It wasted no time and sunk those same teeth into the soft flesh of the underside of Matthew's wrist, causing him to scream out in pain.

With his other hand, he managed to knock the little creature off, but he had to hold his wrist to stop the bleeding where his wound now throbbed agonizingly.

This was no small insect bite, that creature had tried to take a chunk out of his arm.

The little being let out an angry scream, his lips and teeth now covered in Matthew's blood. But before either of them knew what was happening, there were suddenly many more of the little creatures all around them.

The first creature didn't seem particularly pleased by this development at all, and lunged back at Matthew as if to claim to his prey for himself.

Matthew swatted angrily at the little beings with all his might, dodging ungracefully as they swooped and poked and tried to bite at him through his thankfully thick jacket in their blood induced feeding frenzy.

Their actions became more enraged and desperate, as did Matthew's as he tried desperately to back away from the little terrors, unable to watch what he was doing, or where he placed his feet.

And for one sickening second, that seemed to last much too long, he felt like he was suspended in air when his right foot was unable to find purchase… before gravity took over, and Matthew began to fall.

The blood thirsty creatures above him were left behind as the more pressing matter of his impending death became the forethought in his mind.

Matthew flailed frantically trying to grab onto whatever he could… something… anything… as he watched the little green creatures high above him recover quickly from the shock of his departure, and trail after him in a craze.

And just as they were about to catch up to him, Matthew hit the cold choppy waters with such a force that the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

He barely had time to be thankful that he'd not hit a rock and died on impact, when a wave sucked him under just as he tried to take a breath, the current dragging him backwards and then forward again in a circular motion along with the strong deadly wave that was about to crash hard into the side of the rock cliff, where only a small silver tree held on tight.

And then… darkness…

TBC…

Author's Note:

The Rock – The nickname for Newfoundland for obvious reasons ;)

Ok I said I wasn't going to post this until my other story was done. But my other story IS almost done, I have the last chapter basically written up, so no worries J

I've had this idea for a while, and while you don't quite know what's going to happen, I can tell you it's a dark fantasy, more on the line of Pan's Labyrinth meets… Dark crystal… meets Irish Fairy tales… but probably not as good :P

Don't worry about the Newfie accents, they don't appear again. I was VERY reluctant to set this story in Newfoundland, but it was either that or have Matthew in Ireland. Newfoundland has a very rich tradition of fairies, and a lot of folklore to back it up. So I've taken some of those stories to add to this one.

Hard Tack, Newfie folklore says to give children and adults Hard Tack in their pockets to ward off the fairies.

Sidenote: I always imagine that Matthew speaks in English when he's calm, speaks in French when he's flustered, and speaks newfie when he's drunk.

You know it's true :P

xxxxx

**Translation (if you really did have a hard time with the above script. )**

"Eh Mike! Dat Williams boy's here 'ta see to dem dere order!"

– Eh Mike! That Williams boy is here to see to his order.

"Al'right… Al'right.. give me a sec! Stay where yer at, Oi'll come where yer to."

– Alright, Alright… Give me a sec! Stay there, I'll come to you."

"Don't you worry 'by, me son'll be out in a moment wit' yer fish." – Don't worry, my son'll be out in a moment with your fish." (boy is not derogatory, it is just… a way of talking to someone, even to girls)

"How's dat dere Fad'der of yers doing? He still sick as an old man?"

- How's that father of yours doing? He's still sick as an old man?

"You're a nice kind young feller Mattie, to be taking care of family all on yer own. A good son 'dough… a good son."

– You're a nice kid Mattie, to be taking care of your family all on your own. A good son though, a good son."

"Here b'y, sum Hard Tack for yer soup."

- Here boy, some Hard Tack for your soup (Hard tack is a rock hard piece of bread… basically)

"Dat is 'Hard Bread', might break yer teeth if you eat it as is, but it will taste great soaked up in some nice soup. Good fer healing up your sick fad'der, dey say it's magic."

– That is hard bread, might break your teeth if you eat it as is, but it will taste great soaked up in some nice soup. Good for healing up your sick father, they say it's magic." (Tradition states hard tack or bread can heal you)

"Or if you hate it, you can always just keep a piece in your pocket, keep dem fairy folk away. Dey can't stand dat dere Hard Tack."

– Of if you hate it, you can always just keep a piece in your pocket, to keep the fairy folk away. They can't stand Hard Tack"

"Aye… dat it is…"

–"Yup, it sure is"

"Al'right... you knows yourself. Just don't be falling off no cliffs. I don'ts feel like going for a swim today."

– Alright. You know you what's best for yourself. Just don't be falling off the cliffs. I don't feel like going for a swim today.


	2. The Silver Bough

**Chater 2: The Silver Bough**

Cold… he was so… so cold.

Matthew's mind could no longer grasp what was happening around him as he coughed up more seawater onto the soft ground below where he lay, his lungs full to brim with the liquid substance.

His clothing was soaked through and through and his rubber boots now held the very water it was supposed to have kept out.

And everything else… was cold.

Matthew's lips started to go numb as he began to shake sporadically. His teeth chattered in an effort to retain heat and he could no longer find the control to move his arms or to properly lift himself off of the ground. His wet hair hung around his face in icy tendrils and a fine layer of frost was quickly beginning to form over his damp exposed skin. Everything else… was beginning to freeze.

While his body convulsed in spasms, Matthew tried to look down at his hands that were turning somewhat blue. He could make out almost nothing else as a thick curtain of snow blew by him in an impossible seasonal storm.

The fine hair of his eye lashes began to ice over and Matthew soon found it too difficult to try and keep his eyes open as the lids began to freeze shut.

None of it made any sense whatsoever.

All too soon he began to succumb to the painful feeling of the bitter wind as it hit his cold wet cheeks, and everything started to become numb as Matthew finally stopped shivering and drifted off further into unconsciousness.

And that that was where he would have remained had he not suddenly felt a strange tingling feeling creep over the middle of his forehead and spread quickly over the rest of his body and clothes.

Matthew let out a sharp gasp, as his blue lips were suddenly free to move again, although the cold air that was burning his chilled wet lungs made him actually regret the act of breathing at all.

The unfamiliar warm glow quickly spread across his face and deep into his chest, both warming and drying everything it touched. Matthew didn't know what was happening, but he unconsciously and greedily sucked in as much of that feeling as he dared; the pain and cold now turning into a surprisingly pleasant feeling not dissimilar to that of a strong shot of morphine.

By the time he could once again feel the tips of his fingers, Matthew's body shot forward in a sudden jerking motion, breaking the warm life saving connection. His eyes opened wide to not only survey the winter storm blazing miraculously around him, but also the surprised look of a strange man kneeling beside him in concern. They were both situated under the semi protection of a large silver tree that Matthew thought might be a replica of the smaller one he'd seen at the bottom of the cliff. But there were nowhere near any cliffs now… just wide open banks of snow.

The stranger had shoulder length blond wavy hair, and almost impossibly blue eyes that sparkled with a bright gem like glow even in the low visibility that was provided, and appeared to match the colour of his long winter coat. His hand was clutched to his chest in as he if had been burned, and he was peering curiously at Matthew in confusion.

Matthew wanted to ask if he was dreaming… of if maybe he'd drowned in the cold Atlantic Ocean, or if his head had simply been smashed against the cliffs like a bowl full of eggs and he was now dead. But with the absence of the warm glow he'd felt before, Matthew was once again a victim to the bitter cold surrounding him.

His clothes were somehow now dry, and while they were made to protect against the chilly wet temperatures of Newfoundland, they did nothing against this kind of weather, only barely taking the edge off of the windshield factor in the wind.

The strange man finally recovered from whatever it was that had shocked him, and he cocked his head curiously at Matthew. "What a great, although surprising, inconvenience you are turning out to be, my friend. You have delayed my departure... but you might be a riddle enough to make up for it."

Matthew didn't know what to say, still confused and heavily disorientated; he brought his cold hands up to cover his exposed ears that were once again beginning to feel the effects of frostbite despite now being dry.

Seeing the pained expression, and the way Matthew was beginning to shiver from the cold, the stranger sighed heavily and slowly started to rub his hands together in and odd motion, his brows tightening in concentration.

"I almost think you must have come from some underwater world the way you showed up drowning." The stranger continued with a pleasant smile. "This Silver Gate has not been opened for many centuries. You should thank my kind heart that let me choose the mystery of your life over my assured escape into the strange lands beyond. Although I did try to drag you with me away from the snow… but the touch of your clothes made me feel ill" The man grimaced at the memory even as he spoke conversationally.

Matthew wanted to respond, despite the cold that made his teeth chatter against his will, but he stilled when he saw something that led him believe once more that he was lying unconscious on some cove on the shores of Newfoundland.

The hands that the stranger had been rubbing together began to emit a gentle red light, beams escaping through the long pale fingers like sunshine through the branches of a tree. The man then brought his cupped hands close to his mouth and breathed in deeply until the glow could be seen pulsating deep within his chest.

Matthew immediately tried to back away when the stranger leaned forward but the man caught his hand in his gently but firm grip to prevent his escape.

"Such a strange young Sidhe you are, to run away in fear from a small healing spell… I don't believe I've ever met your like." The man chuckled amiably, his only intention clearly to help Matthew, who must have appeared lost and bewildered, out of his current predicament.

The stranger was now so close that he barely had to tilt his head so that they were almost touching nose to nose. He then let out a long deep breath that washed over Matthew's face; bringing with it the same welcome warmth he'd felt earlier. And with it, the strange light that had been created, passed like oxygen from the stranger's mouth into Matthew's own.

Just like before, Matthew could feel a sensation unlike any he'd ever known seeping deep into his skin, like he was draining energy away from the other man… and from the look on the stranger's face… it was quite possible he was doing just that.

As the feeling intensified, Matthew became aware of how his body greedily stole more and more of the healing light, sucking it deep into his body until finally the stranger let out a cry and fell back into the deep snow.

This stranger was breathing hard; trying to regain some of the precious air Matthew had somehow been stealing from him, before eyeing him warily.

"Who… are you?"

"I-I… I'm Matthew." He replied nervously, and more than a little scared, although he was just as eager to ask the same question in return.

The stranger kept his distance and Mathew noticed that he seemed just a touch paler than he had moments before; his once red flushed cheeks were looking significantly paler.

"But from what kingdom do you hail?" The man's eyes widened as he watched Matthew with suspicion. "Did the Summer King send you?"

"N-no" Matthew stuttered as he stuck his cold hands deep into his pockets in an effort to warm them up, finding the Hard Tack he'd placed in there earlier and holding on to some of the pieces as if they were a life line. "I'm from… from Canada."

The strange man looked like he had wanted to say more but his mouth stopped moving when he eyed some red blotches that were splattered about on the pristine white snow beneath them.

The man's gem like eyes flickered as they followed the trail to Matthew and then back to his own hand that had unwittingly been smeared with the crimson substance when he had made a grab for Matthew's injured wrist.

The stranger inquisitively worked the blood between his fingers before bringing his hand up closer to his face to properly get catch the fragrance he'd only caught a whiff of in the wind.

Matthew could see the man's Adam apple bob slowly as he swallowed with difficulty and licked his wind-chapped lips; the sparkling blue eyes dulling slightly as they glazed over in a thick fog.

And then… to Matthew's abject horror, he watched as the man inserted the bloodied fingers deep into his mouth, his eyelids closing along with his lips as he moaned out in ecstasy, savoring the taste on his tongue before hungrily licking up every last drop on his hand.

When he had finished with the barbaric behavior, his eyes shot open to take in Matthew in a whole new light. The pleasant and amiable look of concern that had shown itself before had now vanished, only to be replaced with a hunger that chilled Matthew far more than the bitter cold ever could.

"Human…" the man whispered, want and longing dripping off of every syllable.

Matthew cried out as the man lunged forward into the snow, grabbing the back of his head and crushing their lips together with a bruising force. The stranger tried to devour Matthew as he kissed him hard and without mercy, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and purposely biting down hard enough to draw blood.

Matthew cried out as his instincts finally kicked in and he lashed out with his knee, impacting his assailant straight in the middle of his chest and allowing him enough leverage to escape the frantic grasps as he picked himself up to run.

The snow, however, was deep and his boots were soon filled to the brim as Matthew trudged his way through as quickly as he possible, not even remotely sure where exactly he was running to, only wanting to put as much distance between himself and the newest threat to his life.

He was offered some small form of relief when the unforgiving snow banks finally cut away and a path opened itself up to him. The storm had died down somewhat by this point, allowing enough visibility for Matthew to at least see where he was going.

He could hear the loud yelling behind him, and his pulse quickened in a new kind of fear, the cold completely forgotten as his thick boots made fresh footprints in the soft untarnished snow.

But all too soon the impractical rubber souls of his boots betrayed him, and he felt his left ankle give way as he slipped along some hidden black ice beneath the fresh coating of snow.

Matthew went down hard on his knees, his arms now the only things holding his body up off of the ground, and his view momentarily blocked by the fall of his loose hair as he once again tried to regain his bearings.

But it was too late, and Matthew's whole body was thrown off kilter as his right arm was torqued away from the ground and he was left to fall backwards unceremoniously.

The crazed madman stood menacingly above him, cracking a smile that was a mix of joy and adoration despite the clouded eyes that surveyed his prize.

"My Friend… why do you run from me?" He asked with true bewilderment in his voice.

The man grabbed the front of his toggle coat to haul him up, but he stopped suddenly when Matthew saw a cold sharp object press itself threateningly against the stranger's exposed neck.

"Francis... he runs from you because you are the most depraved perverted deviant that has ever graced this kingdom. And… you have also got to be the stupidest thief in all of 'Tir Na Nog' to think that you could steal something away from _ME_ and get away with it" The new voice rang out mockingly from the side.

The arrival of the newcomer did nothing to relieve Matthew from his scared and rattled state when he turned his eyes only to be met with yet another impossible sight in the long list of impossible things he'd seen up until that point.

Holding a long broadsword of cold iron was a young man dressed in an outfit that looked more at home in a book of fantasy, or in some medieval tale of knights and kings. He wore a sleeveless long white tunic that covered the front of his torso, as well as black leather gloves and a thick padded undershirt of the same colour that appeared to be laced with a kind of chain mail.

But it was his eyes that frightened Matthew more than anything else, just like with the stranger named Francis, they glowed brightly in the dark winter lighting, but unlike Francis, they looked like the eyes of a demon. The orbs were a bright crimson red, almost the same color as blood or a fine dark ruby, and his hair was a white platinum blonde almost as pale as the snow around them, appearing ill at place on someone so young, or with his complexion.

Francis didn't seem too thrilled either to see the new man, but at least his arrival brought back some traces of sanity to his glossed over eyes as he addressed the newcomer even as his grip remained as tight as ever on Matthew's jacket.

"I'm not the stupid one Gilbert. The King should have been happy to let me take the key and leave this land for good, not waste his nephew and the use of that barbaric cursed weapon that you insist on carrying around so negligently."

Francis tone almost sounded petulant in his reply, as if he were talking to an annoying younger brother and not someone threatening his life with a sword. But as the blade pressed tighter into Francis' throat, he grimaced uncomfortably and he took his eyes off of Matthew to look down at the cold iron with unease.

"Now Francis… don't be that way." The white knight practically cackled, a malicious laugh ringing out in the air. "What would we all do to pass the time if we didn't have _you_ to keep in line? So… I suggest you hand it over… slowly… before I use this blade to send you straight in to the depth of hell… Although you'd probably feel right at home!"

Francis' blue eyes flashed in panic for a second, his grip tightening on Matthew's coat, before realization let him know that the knight was referring to the key and… not to his scared captive.

With his free hand, Francis reached into his long blue cloak, and pulled out something that didn't look anything like a key to Matthew at all. It was a small silver branch that almost appeared to have been broken off of the tree that they'd been laying under before.

Gilbert carefully reached over and snagged the branch out of Francis' grasp, his blade unwavering.

The key safely back in his hands, the knight now took the time to look over the strangely dressed young man that Francis still clung to.

"And who, pray tell, is this innocent traveler that you've chosen to accost?" He asked as his red eyes betrayed some concern for the shaking, frightened and ill dressed young man.

Francis immediately pulled Matthew in close, wrapping his arms tightly around the trembling shoulders as he disregarded the burning sensation of the cold iron on his skin.

"He's my little brother." Francis declared firmly, and while Matthew thought he sounded calmer than when the knight had first arrived, he could feel the muscles tensing around his body as the knight looked him over with a frown.

"He's going to freeze to death is what he is." Gilbert finally decided, not believing the trickster for a second as he addressed the upset young man in question "What's your name? Why are you dressed like that?"

"M-matthew… and I'm from Cana…" Francis squeezed him sharply, promptly cutting him off and in a melodic voice, easily lied to the knight. "He's from the Summer lands, we were going to escape together."

Tired of listening to thief, Gilbert reached forward to pull Matthew away from Francis, but stopped when his hand came in contact with the yellow toggle coat, a sour expression reaching his face as he pulled his gloved hand back to glare at Francis, clearing untrusting of everything that was being said.

"Well you can explain all that to the King. For my part, I wouldn't believe you if you told me my own name." The knight looked down at the silver branch clasped tightly in his leather clad fingers, carefully moving his sword so that he could touch Francis with his other hand, as well as hold onto the hilt of his blade. "Hold him tight… I've only done this once before… and it's not going to be a pleasant ride."

xxxxxx

The knight hadn't been lying as Matthew's stomach suddenly dropped away and he felt the sensation of falling for the second time that day. Despite his fear of the other man not minutes before, he now clung firmly to the arms wrapped around him, his eyes clenched tightly together as gravity lost all meaning.

And just as suddenly as it started, the feeling stopped, and all three men were slammed hard against a polished stone floor, a loud clang sounding out as Gilbert's blade fell to the ground.

The confusion and the nausea that had already been there from when he'd fallen down the Newfoundland cliff the first time, showed itself in full force, and Matthew scrambled away from the now lax arms until he was supporting himself on all fours in the corner of the new room. There, he promptly emptied the full contents of his stomach, which had been mostly seawater anyways, onto the white floor beneath him.

His companions didn't seem to have fared much better, with both Gilbert and Francis trying to stand up on wobbly legs, their sense of balance still not having been recovered.

A small voice deep inside Matthew's mind yelled up at him to get up NOW, and run away as fast and as far away as he could. It was easier said than done, but nonetheless his weak body complied with the instructions as he stood up and ignored the pounding in his head, turning away from the wall to make his getaway on unsteady legs.

He took one shaky step before failing miserable and walking straight forward into yet another wall that sent him reeling back onto the hard cold floor.

Matthew raised one hand to rub at his temple before looking up to discover that he'd not walked into a wall at all, just someone who could have probably passed for one.

The large man that now stood before Matthew appeared almost surreal in his size, partially because Matthew was sitting on the ground, but also because of the strong aura and "presence" the stranger conveyed as he looked down at him.

Under the fall of his silvery blonde hair, the large stranger peered at him with the coldest eyes that Matthew had ever seen. And despite having escaped the clutches of the frigid Atlantic waters, and then the deathly winter temperatures outside, as Matthew gazed up into the strange violet eyes that glowed just as much, if not more so than that other two sets he'd seen like them, he felt like he would never be warm again.

Matthew could only shiver to himself quietly as he felt Francis regain his composure nearby and lunge over to grab his arm and pull him back into to the unwelcome embrace.

The large man barely reacted to this development, tilting his head to the side in curiosity as if it was a normal occurrence for three men to fall out of the sky and land in front of him in disarray.

In addition to his size, Matthew noticed the pristine white robes that the man was wearing, a poor choice considering the white motif that surrounded them. The robe was long sleeved and reminiscent of those an important clergyman would have worn in a monastery.

And while the man's eyes may have looked cold enough to freeze his soul, his face was another matter entirely. If Matthew could describe the man's expression in one word, it would be… childlike. He looked very much like a kid taking in a new situation with glee. And when he did finally speak, his voice was low and soft, and deceivingly friendly.

It terrified Matthew.

"Explain this to me thief..." The large man calmly spoke, while looking directly over at Francis "How is it that you manage to steal something as precious as a Silver Bough… a tool that could take you anywhere in this land… and yet you then escape with it… by _foot_." The large man smiled at him sweetly, approaching slowly with carefully positioned steps.

Despite the growing threat around them, Matthew's unbelieving eyes looked around the large man and took in the sight of the great hall that they had all apparently 'fallen' into. The majesty and fantastical construction left Matthew nearly breathless. He had never seen anything like before in his life.

The sides of the hall were littered with various men and women, all dressed in equally odd clothing, and who watched the proceedings with great interest.

Francis seemed almost as nervous as Matthew did at this point and held on to the young man even tighter. But it was Gilbert who answered for him, only too happy to dig Francis' grave deeper.

"Uncle, I found the thief by the Great Tree… I think he'd been planning to use the key to leave the kingdom entirely"

The large man stilled, his cold eyes flashing in anger while his expression and voice remained as sweet and welcoming as ever.

"Leave? But that's not possible… surely Francis would know the consequences of breaking one of my laws… surely he would not want to wake the ire of his King…"

Seeing no reaction from Francis other than the continued and unwarranted attention he focused on the wide eyed young man he held in his arms, the 'King' looked curiously down at the strangely dressed traveler, his brows tightening deep in thought as he kneeled down on one leg so as to lean forward and closely to examine the strange yellow jacket and the fear in Matthew's eyes.

"And who do we have here that has so uncharacteristically stolen your attention and your loose tongue?" the King asked, although it was unclear to whom he was addressing.

"He's my b-brother." Francis stuttered, obviously all the more nervous the closer the King got to Matthew.

Staring directly into Matthew's eyes now, the King reached up with his big hand to grip the blonde's chin tightly, the pads of his fingers pressing in so strongly that there was no doubt that bruises would be sure to appear later.

The exact points where their skin made contact felt almost unbearably cold to Matthew and he let out a gasp as the same kind of energy that he'd felt with Francis started to flow into him. But this time, instead of warming him, Matthew could feel the energy seeping through like he was swallowing a cold drink on a hot day. It filled his senses, and his body betrayed his mind by continually craving more yet again.

Matthew's eyes rolled back into his head as he soundlessly slumped down into Francis's arms and intuitively let the energy flow through his body in waves. Not only was he was no longer as incapacitated or as distracted as the last few times that this had happened, but the energy that was currently coursing through his veins was many times stronger than what he'd experienced with either Francis or the little green creatures.

And when Matthew finally exhaled the breath that he had not known that he'd be holding, instead of normal air, it was a fine crystallized mist.

The strong hand that had been touching him suddenly ripped away with much effort and the King actually stumbled back from Matthew to create a safe distance. His expression was momentarily confused before he steeled it into one of anger and stood up in order to storm over to his nephew.

Gilbert dropped his sword again onto the floor and backed away in fear until he body was pressed hard against the wall. He didn't even bothering to defend himself as the King pulled back the knight's sleeve to expose the skin of his upper arm to the open air before grabbing a hold of it.

A blue glow began to manifest itself under the King's hands as Gilbert screamed out in pain through clenched teeth, his knees buckled even as he made no attempt to pull away.

Matthew watched in horror as the blue colour spread from the King's hand into the defenseless arm beneath it and appeared to be slowly freezing limb like liquid nitrogen.

A dark aura engulfed the king, his once friendly features now foreboding and dangerous in every way.

"You have made… a grave… grave… error my Nephew…" The King slowly ground out. "Did you intend to destroy us all by bringing that… monstrosity into my land… my home?"

"N-no… I swear…" Gilbert's red eyes widened further in pain as his felt his arm solidify before his very eyes.

Watching the proceedings in shock and disbelief, the fear that had engulfed Matthew from the first moment he'd fallen down the cliff miraculously evaporated as he witnessed the cruel action being displayed before him. All thoughts of his own well being suddenly becoming of secondary importance when compared to the need to stop what was happening in any way he could.

Pulling himself out of Francis' grip, Matthew ran forward and tried with all his might to haul the large arm away from the poor knight currently being tortured.

The King did let go, but it was only so that he could push Matthew away and drag his nephew behind him in a protective stance, almost as if trying to shield the very person he'd only seconds before been trying to hurt.

The two strangers stared at each other long and hard, Matthew's momentary courage fading as he once again became the center of attention and realized his precarious situation.

"Gilbert…" The King declared, breaking the silence, his cold violet eyes never wavering as he addressed the man behind his back as calmly as when they'd first arrived. "I'm afraid you have unwittingly brought back a child of that most cursed race."

There was a loud exclamation of surprise from all those around the great hall, and even the knight looked stunned and ashamed at his actions.

Upon hearing the revelation announced, Francis recovered from the display, and possessively ran in front of Matthew declaring loud enough for all present to hear.

"He's MINE Ivan! I won't let you take him from me!"

The King shook his head in a false display of sympathy, his voice returning to the calm one he'd used before.

"No… you are his…" He contradicted. "I can see now what I did not when you first arrived. His cursed blood flows through your veins even as we speak… and you will inevitably be consumed from the inside." The king motioned for some guards to advance forward, nodding in Francis' direction.

As they grabbed a hold of the struggling man, Francis cried out to be released, offering anything to stay by Matthew's side.

The King left his nephew to stand between Francis and Matthew, the latter who had not dared to move from the spot he now stood in.

"I would like so much to kill you this very instant for the traitorous act of helping to bring this creature into our land. But as it is… we will need your assistance in returning him to where he belongs. But… on my honour as the Sidhe King of Winter… I promise to then grant you the release of death…" The King smiled warmly at this prospect, but if possible, Matthew only felt cold inside.

Gilbert, who had remained quiet up until this point, finally found his voice again as he rubbed his left arm that was slowly beginning to return back to normal. His natural bravado reappearing now that he was out of harm's way. "But Uncle, this isn't possible, he can't be one of them. No human can enter our lands… and even if he could, I would have felt his presence as soon as I saw him."

The King paused to consider this, his bright eyes drawn to the yellow coat that Matthew was now clutching tightly. And in one swift motion he reached down and pulled from Matthew's pocket a piece of the Hard Tack that Arthur had given to him in what felt like many years ago

The great King rolled the hard biscuit in his fingers while he examined it, and if he felt any effects from doing so, he did not show it on his face.

"He carries hard 'bread' with him to try and ward off our kind. Its effects however… are limited." The King threw the Hard Tack over to Gilbert to see for himself, although his nephew only caught it and quickly dropped the bread to the ground like a hot potato.

"And you are wrong Nephew… not all humans can be stopped from entering our lands… there is one who can enter at will."

TBC…

XXXX

Author's Note:

Silver Bough: A silver branch from a fearie tree that would allow you entry into….

"Tir Na Nog: The Land of the Youth... otherwise known as Fearie.

Cold Iron: Fearies are reportedly deathly afraid of Cold Iron… I imagine Ivan has an Iron Pipe lying around somewhere too…..

Sidhe: Fea… Faerie… Fairy… what not… ect

I know Matthew looked a bit useless and shell shocked in this episode… but that's mostly because that's how he feels at the moment. Give him some time to grasp the situation. He's a city boy after all….

I need to start writing shorter chapters.

I've got nothing else to say...


	3. The Land of Youth

**Chapter 3: The Land of Youth**

The world around Matthew had by now slowed down to an almost unbearable crawl as he was forced to watch the flurry of motion surrounding him from a safe distance. Within seconds of the King's proclamation, the large man had promptly called the men to orders and left the great hall to begin preparations, although for what, Matthew didn't know.

Matthew was left off to the side all by himself, as confused and unsure as ever while he sat dazed on the ground and surrounded by a ring of guards that kept their distance under pain of death.

No one was willing to tell him a thing, and truthfully after what little Matthew had already heard; he wasn't particularly inclined to ask for further explanation at this point, preferring instead to remain in denial and properly ignorant. The less he knew the less that any of it could possibly be true.

None of it seemed real to him anyways, how could it?

The sane portion of his mind kept telling him to sit back and let the dream unfold; soon he'd be rewarded by waking up from this nightmare, safe and sound and back in his normal everyday life. The other part of his brain, however, was yelling at him that he was in the sort of danger that he hadn't yet even comprehended the severity of … but for the moment he kept that part locked up tightly.

Matthew was already somewhat numb from the proceedings and was starting to no longer be concerned about where the King was planning to take him or what was to be his fate. Everything had long since stopped making any sort of sense at all. The further he locked himself away internally, the more peaceful he felt.

In the background of his mind he could hear whispers being directed his way and curious longing looks as people gathered around from a comfortable distance and pointed at him as if he were some kind of dangerous exhibit at a zoo.

This might have gone on for awhile, but the steady flow of preparations came to a grinding halt when one of the main hall doors was flung open carelessly and a second knight rushed half hazardless through them in his haste to find the King, who was now, no longer there.

By this point Matthew had already begun to find solace in the recesses of his psyche and would not have even paid the disturbance any mind except that the young man acted so differently from everyone else around him. Matthew's attention was naturally drawn to the knight as he skidded to a frantic halt in front of his red-eyed counterpart.

He was dressed in much the same way as Gilbert was, although he didn't carry the strange iron sword at his side. And in contrast to the almost white hair, his was a dark shade of blonde. He was also in possession of an amazing set of blue eyes that Matthew could even make out from where he currently sat on the hard marble floor.

For all the pomp and circumstance of his supposed station, the second knight appeared properly frazzled, his eyes wide and filled with barely contained hope.

The knight struggled to regain his composure and spoke in a jumble of incoherent sentences as he attempted to regain his breath from his frantic run.

"I just heard… I came as soon as I could… there's been a rumour… that…"

The hall went deathly silent and everyone present watched the proceedings with rapt interest, even though it was apparent they were already perfectly aware of what Gilbert was going to say in response.

Seeing how the blonde knight looked on the verge of panicking, the King's nephew reached up to grab the other knight's shoulder in a firm grip that was probably meant as some form of comfort, but was really more of a way to calm him down.

"I am sorry Alfred..." but of what he was sorry for, Matthew had no idea.

Matthew could hear a distinctive strangled cry escape the lips of the blonde knight as he fell back a few steps; the once hopeful eyes now downcast and pinched in their pain and sorrow.

Not a single person present made any move to assist the stunned knight, or offer any other words of sympathy, preferring instead to return in their new favourite hobby of staring at Matthew, almost as if waiting for the knight to do the same.

And when the knight finally did turn his way, Matthew instantly wished that the young man had never entered the hall in the first place. The seething hatred that was directed his way was unlike anything Matthew had ever witnessed before.

While the King's mere presence frightened him in a way that made him feel that his life was at risk every second he was still alive, the young knight looked at him as if Matthew had betrayed him in the worst fashion possible, even though he was sure that they'd never met before this very instant.

For one unending moment Matthew thought that the Knight was actually going to spring up and attack him, and maybe he would have, save for Gilbert's hand still placed securely on his shoulder, insistently pulling him back up to grab his attention.

"Now is _NOT_ the time Alfred! If rumours are already spreading outside the palace… than Ivan is right… we need to get him out of here as soon as possible."

For his part, Alfred didn't look entirely convinced, but whether Gilbert was just good at talking down angry men, or if it was just his position as the King's nephew that was influential enough, Alfred did indeed stand down.

He cast one last angry glance at Matthew before shoving Gilbert's arm away. "Fine… but I'm coming with you. He's going to need an escort… I'll be the one to take him through…"

Gilbert scowled, his red eyes flashing in annoyance despite his earlier attempt to calm the other knight down. "And since when do you give _me_ orders, Ivan hasn't even made a decision yet other than to leave immediately. If anyone should go you know damn well I'm the better option, I have nothing to tempt a human."

Alfred stopped him from continuing, his voice as cold as the snow outside. "Ivan will let me go… he owes me now. And Gilbert…" Alfred paused, but only to make sure that Matthew was looking directly at him when he said this, his blue eyes flashing in unrestrained hatred. "I swear to you, to the King, and on _his_ grave that I… I will _kill_ that cursed child before he ever enters Tir Na Nog again."

xxxxx

Despite Gilbert's angry protests, and certainly to Matthew's dismay, the knight called Alfred had been shortly proven right when he was promptly summoned by the King to join him downstairs. The only reason that Matthew knew what any of this meant was because when after Alfred had left, Gilbert had picked up one of the beautifully ornate chairs that had been lining the hall, and threw it hard against the wall in anger, before he too stormed off after him.

It was not long after that the marching orders came down from upon high, and Matthew was ordered to get up off of the ground and to start walking forward. He was soon led down the long white hallways that were so numerous that he knew that he'd never be able to find his way back even if he had truly wanted to.

The architecture and decoration that they passed by as Matthew was led further away from that hall, would have, under any normal circumstances, awed and inspired the Canadian. But as it was, they only managed to isolate him further from any sort of reality.

Upon exiting the fantastical palace, Matthew instantly curled in on himself for protection when the doors were opened wide to expose his unprepared body to the bitter winter chill. He cursed silently to himself and thought that dream or not, someone should have offered to share with him their warmer outerwear. The risk of frostbite seemed all too real.

By now, the sun had peeked out from the dark clouds and reflected merrily off of the pure white snow, but even that did little to warm his cold toes and exposed appendages. The cold wind swirled viciously around his face in the confines of the courtyard, mussing his hair and at the same time stinging his vulnerable cheeks.

Matthew wondered morbidly to himself if they were planning on leaving him outside overnight to die, he certainly wouldn't last too long in this weather in his current attire. But those fears were soon alleviated when a plain looking sleigh pulled up in front of the doors, led by a team of equally white horses and an irate Gilbert at the reigns. The enclosed cabin that the knight sat upon looked built for speed and security over any form of comfort… or warmth.

One of the guards opened the wooden door to the sleigh and ordered Matthew to go through it. No one else made any move to touch him or to push him forwards, but despite this it was clear that he didn't have a choice in the matter.

Hesitantly walking forward, Matthew could hear the crunch of the fresh snow as it was pressed under his rubber boots. He watched anxiously as the guard that was holding the door open both flinched back in fear at the proximity of his jacket, while at same time his expression turned to one of clouded desire when he caught Matthew's scent in the wind.

Upon entering the dark confines of the covered sleigh, a cry of delight instantly rang out from inside.

Before Matthew's eyes had time to fully adjust to the change in lighting, he heard Francis exclaim a stream of half strung together words that displayed his pure uninhibited joy at seeing Matthew again, as well as his ire at not being able to move from the bounds that held him.

A second voice made itself known in the small compartment in order to silence Francis, and Matthew unhappily identified it as that of the knight who had only recently threatened to kill him. All in all, the two were not exactly his first choice of traveling companions.

Alfred attentively kept a steel broadsword trained on Francis' every move, probably the only thing that was keeping the longhaired man from jumping across the carriage and into Matthew's unwelcome arms.

Matthew didn't bother acknowledging either of the men who were present, falling back to the safe and comfortable silence that had served him well thus far. He had only barely spoken more than a handful of words since he'd arrived in this strange land, and was almost afraid that if he did start speaking up that the situation would manifest itself into a real tangible state of affairs, and he'd then be forced to face the inevitable.

So instead, he chose to clasp his cold hands together for warmth and comfort while he assiduously ignored the other occupants.

Matthew continued to stare outside the small window in his futile attempt to pretend he was simply on a fun winter sleigh ride, and not trapped with two men who wanted him dead for two entirely different personal reasons, both equally as mysterious and disturbing.

Not long after entering the carriage, the horses upfront began to trot forward, and as the sleigh jolted away from the palace, Matthew briefly caught sight of the large solemn King sitting on his own horse as he trailed behind them from the rear.

The King was now dressed more appropriately in warm slacks, a long winter coat, a flowing scarf, a pair of dark leather gloves and a warm looking fur hat that Matthew might have given up almost anything at that moment to own.

While the King surveyed the road ahead of him, Matthew noted that his expression appeared surprisingly neutral considering the anger he'd directed towards him earlier. The only indication that let Matthew know the truth of his feelings was a brief flash of cold purple eyes that turned his way before the horse fell back out of his view.

None of the other guards accompanied them.

Matthew tried in vain to ignore the constant stream of words from Francis, who sat diagonally across from him, as he begged, pleaded, and offered strange things (that Matthew had never heard of) to Alfred, if he'd _just_ let him sit near Matthew.

And through it all, Matthew continued to look out of his window and watch as the strange winterscape passed them by, not really having had a chance to observe it properly the first time.

He'd been wrong earlier when he'd called it a cold wasteland, for in fact the land was filled with beautiful structures of frost, majestic mountains in the distance, and incredible trees that were covered in thick layers of ice that didn't seem to hinder their growth in any way, but managed to make them look as if they were trapped in crystal as they sparkled in the sun.

And so it continued for several long hours of non-stop travel, the landscape eventually starting to even out a bit. In the back of his mind, Matthew thought that things were beginning to look a bit more like what he could remember from when he'd first arrived in the storm, although it was greatly changed with the addition of the bright sun overhead.

The voice that he'd long since tuned out suddenly broke through to his reverie when it changed its tune to one that was surprisingly composed and rational.

"You won't be able to resist him you know..." Francis spoke in dire warning to Alfred, his voice low and dark and strangely calm.

Matthew turned away from the window for the first time to observe the two other men who sat in the cabin with him, both of them staring at him with equally blue eyes that were filled to the brim with either desire or loathing.

"There's nothing to resist, I despise everything about him… and I'll kill him if it ever came to that." was Alfred's only reply. His sword remained poised as always in Francis' direction even as he narrowed his eyes at Matthew in contempt.

"You are a fool to think so. Your personal feelings do not play into this; you will not have a choice in the matter. He will begin to slowly eat at your soul, he will haunt your dreams… and you will not be able to feel complete until you have come to possess him entirely… in every possible way."

Matthew watched the proceedings in a strange mix of horror and fascination. Not at all comprehending why Francis would say such things, what could any of them hope to gain from it?

That mere words could affect someone was also shocking to him, and equally shocking was how Alfred's eyes flickered dangerously, just for a moment, changing the anger directed at him to one of… hunger… before returning to their natural state if ire.

"You don't know what you're talking about Francis, you've been corrupted already, and even if you hadn't been, you're nothing but a trickster. I will never feel any love for this heartless creature."

Matthew tried to back further away into the sleigh door. Suddenly the listless apathy and ignorance that he'd been enjoying so much for the last few hours turned back into the instinctual fear he'd felt when he'd first arrived in this land, and he felt the need to defend himself against these mad allegations.

"I-I'm not heartless… I just want to go home…" Matthew spoke out quietly, although uncertain what good it would do to say anything. He wanted to be here about as much as he was welcome by the King… which was to say, not at all.

But his finally speaking out for the first time since having said his name many hours ago didn't have the desired effect he'd intended at all. It only managed to brighten Francis's gaze, and caused a look of confusion to cross over Alfred's own before the knight shook his head in annoyance and he fully regained his composure.

"I don't want to hear another word from you, human."

And Matthew did stop talking, but only because he didn't like the way that Alfred was starting to stare at him, no thanks to Francis' prodding.

"Ahh… but Alfred, you are young… you don't remember the last war… I was there… I saw the devastation left by a single human. She had nearly been enough to destroy all four kingdoms… and she was _nothing_ compared to this boy before us. And _you_… are nothing compared to your predecessor. You can deny it all you want, but even with his mortal tricks of bread and iron… you can feel it can't you… the strong scent of his essence… the pull to touch him… the need to hold him… to own him… to taste him... to possess him…"

Alfred's eyes began to cloud over, his grip slackening on the handle of his blade ever so slightly as he involuntarily leaned just a bit forward in Matthew's direction. He made no more efforts to deny Francis' claims, now unable to think of anything more than staring intently at the frightened visage in front of him.

"You could take him… right now, and no one would be able to stop you… not even the King… he would be yours alone…"

Matthew internally cursed the man that had caused him nothing but trouble since the moment he'd arrived.

Francis' softly spoken words were more than doing the trick as Alfred let go of the anger that had been keeping him from looking at Matthew the same way as everyone else in this world… save the King himself.

The knight swallowed dryly, his mind overflowing with the thoughts of all the things he could do to Matthew right then and there… all the things that Francis was promising him.

Matthew anxiously tried to figure out why Francis was saying these horrible things, purposefully tempting the knight in such a way as to make his current predicament immeasurably worse. And quite frankly, he was getting very tired of things not making any sense.

But all too soon, things became much clearer as Matthew watched Francis' jaw tighten marginally, and his gaze fall briefly to the knight's forgotten sword. The man's bound hands slowly began to glow once again and he started to softly mumble words under his breath even as Alfred lifted his free hand to reach out and touch Matthew's pale cheek.

He never made contact as a ball of light flew from Francis' hands and hit the knight straight on the temple. Before Matthew even had a chance to react, the fellow prisoner grabbed him roughly with his suddenly free hands and flung him out the door of the moving sleigh.

But the plan must not have been thought out too well, Matthew realized as he saw Gilbert leap down after them from the top of the carriage, effectively knocking Matthew free, and putting a strangle hold on Francis.

Matthew didn't even let his brain catch up to the action before he spied the familiar silver tree in the distance that he knew was the reason for all his distress in the past 24 hours. Without thinking about it any further, he started running off in its direction while the two men wrestled together violently in the snow. Matthew had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but something told him he just had to reach it before the others realized he was missing and caught up to him.

The snow was still as deep as ever off of the main path, but it did nothing to dampen his spirit and determination... he was so close… soon he would be home.

As he ran forward towards the tree with every last vestige of oxygen he had left in his lungs, he frantically yelled out with the first bit of confidence he'd shown since arriving. "I'm coming Arthur… I'm almost there… I'm almost home."

But in his haste and desperation to escape he'd completely forgotten that they had not traveled alone.

Matthew screamed in anger and frustration when he felt himself suddenly being lifted completely out of the snow by strong steadfast arms.

All sense of rational left him in his attempts to flee the final few meters it would take him to be rid of this nightmare forever, and even the King's solid grip wasn't enough to contain his wild kicks and punches as he struggled to free himself.

Matthew flailed with such determination that the horse below them became irrevocably spooked despite the King's attempts to calm the beast while he held onto to his struggling prisoner.

The horse reared up high on its powerful hind legs, causing both Matthew and the King to fall back together into the deep snow bank.

The action momentarily dazed the King as Matthew fell hard on top of him, but it was enough time to allow Matthew to scramble up, his wavy hair and rain coat entirely covered in the powdered white snow.

And just as he was about to make another run for it, Matthew saw something sparkling as it lay close by the prone King that must have slipped out of Ivan's long winter coat during their fall.

It was the Silver Bough, the "key" that had somehow let them travel magically from one place to the other with just a thought.

And Matthew had no doubt that with this tool he'd be able to use with the tree to finally get back home the same way he'd come here, he'd be able to get back to Newfoundland.

The King must have realized what Matthew was thinking and subsequently both men dove for the key in the same instant while the King cried out a desperate warning. "NO!"

But it was too late; Matthew had already taken a hold of the key and promptly closed his eyes so as to think as hard as he could about returning to the last place where he'd felt safe and secure.

To his shock and astonishment… it actually worked.

The world once again fell away from his feet and his stomach turned itself inside out as Matthew was filled with utter relief. And just like the last time, he soon hit the ground hard enough to be nearly knocked out, his head spinning from the unnatural form of travel.

Lying unmoving and panting on the ground, Matthew was terrified to open his eyes in case he saw snow once more instead of the grassy hills of the Newfoundland coastline. But when the sounds of some birds chirping in the trees could be heard and the warm grass could be felt beneath his cold cheek, Matthew wanted to do nothing more than cry out loud in happiness.

He breathed out long and slow so as to release the pent up adrenaline still rushing through his veins from his frenzied escape, but stopped midway when he heard a low grumble of pain emanating from beside him.

Matthew slowly opened his wary eyes only to realize with abject horror that he'd not been the only person to grab the key just in time.

xxxxxxx

Alfred groaned out loud as he raised his hand to rub at his sore temple. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but he was left with the distinct impression that he'd somehow messed things up… and in a big way.

The horses that had been pulling the sleigh had stopped moving not long after Gilbert had jumped overboard, allowing the knight to now carefully dismount to see if he could find where everyone else was.

In the far distance he could make out the 'First Knight' putting the final touches on securing Francis in his binds once and for all, and to his left Alfred took note of the King's saddled horse standing off on its own by the Great Tree.

He shook his head in order to clear his mind of the both the pain that was throbbing as well as the crazed thoughts that Matthew's proximity had caused to brew in him.

He was so distracted by those ever present turbulent feelings, that he was completely caught unawares as another person jumped him from the side, easily tossing him to the ground as they used Alfred's own sword against him.

The figure was a dark shadow against the blaring sun that shone directly above him, but Alfred didn't have to wonder about his identity for much longer ever as the tip of the blade dug deep into his throat.

"Listen closely winter knight… for I will only ask this once. WHERE… IS… MY… CHARGE?" Each snarled word was punctuated by a further dig with the sharp sword, causing Alfred to title his chin up in an effort to avoid being cut open.

It was only then that the knight managed to get a somewhat decent look at his attacker, and all too soon the blade didn't seem that important to Alfred as he looked up into a painfully familiar scowl.

The assailant's wild blonde hair barely managed to hide the menacing green eyes that had been dulled over from their many years away.

"A-arthur...?" The knight asked in a shaky voice; all too scared to think this was some kind of cruel hoax.

The man above him startled briefly, cocking his head as if to judge whether or not he was being tricked, before deciding that the knight at his feet was indeed aiming for some form of deception, and he instead dug the blade in deep enough to draw blood.

"Yes… that's me… and just who the hell are you?"

TBC…

XXXX

Author's notes:

Stupid snow fact: For all ye' non northerners, Snow "crunches" and "Squeaks" at temperatures around -10-15 C or 45-50 F.

It's kind of a neat squeaky sound… but you know it's cold then…. Even as your nostrils start to stick together… darn you General Winter.

Yay Pirate Arthur (not really… but let's all pretend J )

FINALLY set up is over, time to get this show on the ROAD! (literally)


	4. The Chosen Path

**Chapter 4 – The Chosen Path**

The heat was almost oppressive in this new warmer environment and Matthew could already begin to feel tiny beads of sweat and condensation forming on his recently chilled skin. The change in temperature was so drastic that for a few short seconds he actually found it difficult to breathe in the now thick humid air compared to the crisp cool one from earlier

Gathering himself together, Matthew stood up so as to inch himself carefully away from the large man who lay sprawled on the ground unconsciously holding onto the now broken Silver Bough in his lax hand. There was a thin trail of blood that leaked from the King's temple, inadvertently dying the lock of pale silvery hair an unnatural shade of red.

A part of Matthew wanted to reach over and wipe the blood away, and maybe possibly check for any other injuries, but the more practical part of him knew that he probably wasn't going to luck out a second time. The wound wasn't fatal, and the King was not going to remain unconscious for long.

Matthew needed to leave now if he was going to escape for good.

Exactly where he was going to go was an entirely different issue.

He had after all, not made it home.

The welcoming taste of sea salt in the air was missing, and the broad trees were unbelievably large as they stood majestically among the thick foliage below. All indications pointed to the likely conclusion that they had instead reached the other coast of Canada and that he was currently standing deep in the woods of British Columbia.

No… he wasn't home, but at least he wasn't in that God forsaken Winterland with any more of those cruel deadly creatures…

…save the one currently laying at his mercy…

If Matthew were a braver man, he'd pick up a rock off of the ground and finish the King for good… but he knew that he couldn't really do that. Matthew didn't really have it in him to do that sort of thing. Even just the sight of the small injury on the King's forehead was making him a tad bit queasy. His instincts were to help… not to harm.

'Let's see how well he fares in _my_ world without anyone to help _him_ out.' Matthew thought bitterly as he turned around to depart with every intention of leaving the unconscious man on his own.

But the moment he surveyed the land around him, Matthew once again realized how inappropriately dressed he was for the current weather. But, this time he would be able to do something about it.

While his thick rain jacket might later come in handy in the all too common seasonal downpours that British Columbia offered, it was a huge hindrance to him right now, and might instead prove as a good diversion should the strange King wake up too soon.

Matthew took off the yellow toggle coat and scrunched it up tight into a ball, throwing it as far as he could in the opposite direction of the one that he intended to travel in, hopefully giving the King the mistaken impression of which way he'd run off.

The rain boots had to stay on for now, there was no way he was willing to risk walking barefoot on the treacherous forest bed, too many sharp objects could be hidden by the leafy undergrowth, and if it did rain, he'd need at least some form of protection.

His red wool knit sweater that he'd been wearing since he left home had to go as well, but he wasn't willing to leave it behind in case the nights proved cold. So instead Matthew wrapped the sweater around his waist for safe keeping. He was now only clothed in the thin white T-Shirt he'd worn to bed the night he'd left home, as well as his pants and boots.

With one last look at the fallen King to confirm the man was still breathing, Matthew quickly took off into the forest.

The trees and foliage didn't leave much room for him to make great headway, but it was enough that Matthew was still able to make somewhat descent time.

The sounds of birds chirping in the trees above him were loud and overbearing, almost too much so. Matthew began to worry a bit despite his best efforts, because if his imagination wasn't deceiving him, the noise appeared to be getting louder the more he ran into the woods.

Matthew had no idea what time of the day it was, and he could hardly make out the position of the sun as its rays peaked down through the leaves above. But in the end it didn't matter too much, as long as he put some distance between himself and Ivan.

Soon the cries of the birds were starting to become frenzied and the noise was beginning to put Matthew more on edge.

His escape into the woods came to a sudden stop when he was nearly knocked over by something swooping down from the tall trees above.

Matthew ducked his head under his arms, and barely missed being grabbed by the sharp talons as the dark figure swooped back up high into sky. His t-shirt was now ripped at the shoulder, and he was left wondering just what kind of birds did that sort of thing in these parts. Were eagles very territorial?

The bird flew down for a second pass, and this time Matthew was barely able to get away in time before it screeched and grabbed at Matthew's hair. It managed to take hold of a good chunk of his locks and pulled up hard.

Matthew screamed out in pain even has he flailed wildly at the bird. He eventually managed after a few strokes to knock the bird to the ground. And when he did so, he finally caught a good look at it for the first time… and what he saw wasn't a bird at all.

Matthew didn't know what he was looking at as he watched the creature thrash on the ground momentarily before flying back up into the canopy. The creature had a sharp beak and tactile claws to be sure, but that was where the similarities with any bird ended. With dread growing in his stomach Matthew realized that it had very much looked like a larger uglier version of the little green men he'd seen on the coast of Newfoundland.

This time the creature was a ruddy brown all over with small red glowing eyes; his wings were still insect in appearance, but much larger and more leathery instead of shear or delicate. And in place of hands or feet, were long sharp talons that Matthew was sure could cause more damage than he was willing to think about at that moment.

That was about all that he had time to notice before the skies descended upon him.

The sun was completely blocked out when the cries above him resounded in a unified shriek, and hundreds of the ugly brown creatures fell from the sky aimed in one direction… towards Matthew.

There was nowhere he could run; every which way he turned he saw glowing red eyes directed squarely at him. All he could do was fall to ground and throw his arms up over his head in a futile attempt to protect himself.

And then… he waited for the end.

But… it never came.

Before a single talon or beak got the chance to carve into his delicate skin, a large immovable force threw itself over Matthew's prone body.

What happened next, Matthew couldn't say for certain, but whatever it was, he felt its effects in his very core. The air around him pulsed outwards with such a strong energy that he would have sworn he was in the center of an explosion.

Strong arms held him tightly while cries of pain and death circled him in the skies above.

Daring a peak back up through his trapped arms, Matthew gasped out loud when his eyes conveyed to him an amazing spectacle unlike any he'd witnessed so far in his strange travel.

The brown creatures above were dying all around him as if being eaten alive by a flurry of snow, ice and… blue light. Their screams went unheard as those in the forefront flapped their wings for the last few seconds of their life, and the rest of their bodies began to harden and crack apart before falling to pieces below them like ash… or black snow.

Those creatures that were only injured or were behind the line of fire, quickly made their retreat as their voices cried out in pain and they flew off well into the safety of the distance. Those that remained were dead before they hit the ground.

Matthew watched it all happen with wide unbelieving eyes, his mouth open in surprise at the sheer magnitude of what he was witnessing. His breath was still shallow and ragged from his run through the forest, and he was beginning to feel light headed from the subsequent events.

But as the creatures began to fall and bits of the snow and blue light fell to the ground like shrapnel, Matthew's body took strength from the amazing source of energy above him. The feeling was akin to being washed with a cool shower of water that instantly brought life again to his sore weakened muscles and tempered his overheated body. And much like when Francis had first healed him, he felt like morphine was flowing through his veins.

On top of that… there was the undeniable feeling of the body literally pulsating with _life_ above him. Even through the thick layers of winter clothing that he knew the King was still wearing… Matthew could _feel_ him. Ivan clung to him now like he was a lifeline, and for his part, Matthew was reluctant for the other man to let go.

The King terrified him to be sure… but so did the thought of being ripped alive to shreds.

Peeking up towards the large man who lay sprawled on top of him, Matthew couldn't help but notice that Ivan's face looked all the more imposing with his features scrunched in deep concentration while his pale hair whipped around his face from the flow of energy. His violet eyes glowed all the brighter during the display, even as he pursed his lips into an angry scowl.

The King didn't let up for a single moment until every last remaining creature had shattered upon the hard earth below them. Only then did he relax his muscles and turn his intense gaze down towards Matthew.

Despite the huge effort it must have taken to create… whatever it was that Matthew had just seen… the King looked no worse for the wear other than a slight increase in his breathing and the quickening of his heart beat that Matthew could somehow feel… or hear as loud as if it were his own.

At first the King made no motion to get up and Matthew watched as he inhaled deeply, a shudder passing through the larger man's body as he struggled to gain control. The violet eyes were closed tightly as Ivan grunted out loud and pushed himself away from both Matthew and the ground in a single abrupt movement, his eyes hardening as his lips turned up into a false gentle smile.

"I hope you are not planning on running away again." The large man inquired with an innocent expression. "Because I am beginning to grow weary of chasing you down". There was a threat here that was only somewhat hidden amongst the pleasantly spoken words.

Matthew swallowed with difficulty as he felt the black snow that had fallen onto his hair already beginning to melt from the returning heat in the air.

"I just wanted to go home…" Matthew defended his actions in a weak voice, but he made no effort to escape as the King backed away and fully released Matthew from his direct gaze.

The King looked at him with an odd glint in his eye one last time before turning away to walk back in the direction that they'd both come from. The anger Ivan felt towards the smaller blonde and to their current predicament was evident and Matthew could tell that he obviously wanted to put some distance between them. But it was also apparent that the King expected him to follow without question, trusting that Matthew was more scared of the forest than of him at that moment in time.

And he was right. Matthew was petrified of being left behind in case the brown creatures came back and hurriedly followed the King on shaky legs.

With the change in their positions, Matthew was barely able to catch the King's low voice as he whispered back to him in the wind.

"I don't really care… what you want."

XXXXX

Alfred almost wished that Arthur would in fact slit his throat, or maybe even stab in him in the heart, because that would probably hurt less than how he felt at that very moment.

In the span of a few short minutes Alfred had learned that the man he'd waited years for without fail to return to him was not only alive and well… but that he didn't… recognize him…

At first Alfred thought that his old mentor was lying, that it was a brave facade he was putting forth in order to retrieve that damned human… but no… Alfred could see it in his dull green eyes, the Fae had no idea just who's throat he was threatening to rip open.

The stubbornness that Alfred was known for reared its ugly head when Alfred refused to answer the other's question. He defiantly remained silent even as Arthur continued to demand details on Matthew's whereabouts.

It hurt him more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. The person that he'd longed to see again for so many years… was apparently unconcerned about him in any way. Even if Arthur didn't recognize him… surely he should be asking about his whereabouts too.

Was he so forgettable after all?

Their tense one sided conversation was ended shortly enough when Gilbert finally caught on to what was happening and ran over with his Iron Sword, thrusting it dangerously close to Arthur's heart.

But even Gilbert with all his bravado stumbled a few steps back when Arthur turned his angry green eyes back at him in greeting, scorning disdainfully at the sword presented to him.

"Gilbert…" Arthur's voice was dangerously low as he gave forth a clear warning. "I have withstood the constant threat of Iron and Human Blood for longer than you have been in possession of such a weapon or have known of Matthew's existence. I suggest you lower your sword now before I run this young pup of a Sidhe through his neck and then show you what an _actual_ Fae with magic can do.

"H-how DARE You!" Gilbert sputtered, although listen nonetheless and dropped his sword away as commanded, even as he grew angrier. "I am a member of the Royal Seeley Court; you owe allegiance to _ME_ Arthur, no matter your skill. Do not dare to presume you can order me about with such an insolent tone."

Arthur quirked a cruel grin as he removed the blade from Alfred's neck and raised one thick brow at Gilbert's increasingly upset features. "Or what? You'll run back to Ivan and hide under real power? I like you Gilbert, but right now you're just in my way."

Gilbert snarled menacingly but settled for grabbing Alfred by his shirtfront and pulling him up off of the ground. The King's nephew didn't stand a chance against Arthur, and everyone present knew it only too well.

"You're too late anyways Arthur. He's gone."

Arthur immediately turned back to him, his eyes managing to recapture just a bit of their former glow in their intensity. "Who is? Matthew or Ivan?" He demanded to know.

Gilbert snickered like a petulant child, glad to have the upper hand after having been so insulted by the former knight. "Both actually, and even you won't be able to find them without my help. So I suggest you start acting like a proper Knight of this realm and start listening to me, because in his absence, you know what that makes me."

Arthur groaned out loud as his one hand went to grasp the side of his face in frustration. "Gilbert, you cannot possibly be serious, I don't have time to watch you play dress-up and pretend to be a King."

"I am _very_ serious Arthur! And powers or not, you owe your allegiance to the King of this land, and as of right now, I _am_ its Regent."

Alfred looked back and forth between the bickering duo, angrier still that Arthur didn't even hesitate in recognizing the King's nephew.

"Excuse me, but would someone tell me just WHAT the hell is going on?" Alfred barked out, even more perturbed than ever at being left out of the conversation.

Arthur turned back to rake his disapproving gaze over the disheveled knight, and whatever he found, it was clearly lacking from the thinly veiled disgust in the other man's eyes.

"Gilbert, please muzzle your pet for me. I'm willing to put up with your delusions of grandeur in order to have Matthew returned safely to me, but don't expect me to put up with your untrained watchdogs at the same time.

Alfred flinched as if he'd been slapped… before allowing his true anger to take over him completely. "You stuck up bastard, I'll show you who…" He never finished the sentence as Arthur thrust his hand forward into thin air and Alfred felt his body flung back hard against the outside of the carriage, his head cracking loudly against the wood.

The older Sidhe didn't even bother to confirm if he was all right before grinning back at Gilbert. "Actually, I've changed my mind, keep him along. I'm out of practice with using magic, and your useless unskilled toy soldier might just be the target fodder I need."

Gilbert's perturbed features morphed into one that was far too smug for Arthur's liking.

"Suit yourself Arthur, but don't blame me for his lacking qualities, _you_ trained him after all!"

The atmosphere around them changed almost in an instant, tension forming so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The blood drained from Arthur's face and he spun around to face the bruised Knight picking himself off of the ground.

Alfred could only glare up at his former mentor with disdain, not caring in the least anymore that the man was finally beginning to recognize him.

"W-hat? That's not possible… this isn't my… he's too old…"

Alfred might have enjoyed the flustered response under normal circumstances, but by now he was just too upset to care.

"Well it is me '_Arthur'…_not that you bothered to check up on someone as 'useless' or 'unskilled' as I am."

Arthur could only stare at him in disbelief, clearly unable to connect the image of the little Fae he'd been raising with this… grown man before him.

Gilbert snickered behind him. "You've been gone a long time Arthur, and Alfred has a lot of untapped power hidden beneath that thick skull of ihs. You didn't think he'd stay little forever did you? And if he doesn't know how to control his abilities… well maybe it's because his teacher decided to go on a fun vacation instead."

The words were meant as in insult and should have incited anger… but Arthur paid them no heed as he instead kneeled onto the ground and placed his stunned fingers onto Alfred's chin, turning the injured man's head to examine the familiar blue eyes in closer detail. He didn't get much more of a chance as Alfred slapped his hand away angrily and stood up to storm off back towards the tied up and unconscious prisoner lying back where Gilbert had left him.

Arthur watched him leave in incomprehension, his worry over Matthew momentarily forgotten when presented with the impossible sight before him. He was eventually forced to swallow his pride and turn back to the gloating Regent besides him. "B-but Ivan was supposed to train him for me… he promised when I agreed to… I couldn't bring him… it would have been too dangerous."

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, not feeling particularly sympathetic towards the older knight after his earlier slight, but knowing an explanation was going to have to come from someone if they were going to get on the road soon to go after the King and the human named Matthew.

"Hey don't go blaming anyone else for your decisions. Ivan did try, the other knights tried too… but you know how Alfred is… he's so damn stubborn. Alfred was damn well angry at him for sending you away. He refused to study any more magic until you returned. So I got stuck training him in arm to arm combat instead." Sighing angrily as he sheathed his iron sword, Gilbert grudgingly admitted that Arthur wasn't the only one who was surprised by the sudden growth spurt. "I don't think any of us expected him to grow so quickly… he's got a lot of power you know…"

"Of course I-I know…" Arthur admitted glumly. "But I had to remove the threat… as much for his sake as anyone else's. Those of us who are stronger… we feel their temptation all the more keenly."

"Oh well" Gilbert brushed aside the older knight's concerns without care, annoyed once again over Arthur's comments on Magic and strength. "Guess you gotta' reap what you sow… right Ol' man?"

As Arthur watched the angry blue eyes in the distance turn back to look at him with only hate and resentment, he could barely bring himself to agree.

"I suppose…"

xxxxxxxx

Authors Notes:

I know some of you thought that they had gone back to Newfoundland… but where's the fun in that? Story would have been a WHOLE lot shorter in that case… lol And no, they are not in British Columbia…

Also, I know the story was on temporary hiatus last week as I decided whether to continue it or not. But that was only because at the time I had only gotten two reviews, and while I don't mind writing for a small group, 2 is a bit too small. However, enough people have shown interest in it since so I'll gladly continue.

Apologies on the quality of the writing, I'm aware it probably could use another edit or two. But I have guests over so I really just managed to get this chapter out. Hopefully you still enjoy it

I wrote a smutty one shot in the mean time if anyone wants to check it out :P

http: / www . fanfiction. Net /s / 7203983/1/ The_Criminal_Mind


	5. The King and I

**Chapter 5 – The King and I**

This was not British Columbia… of that much, Matthew was certain.

Matthew had so far been unable to bring himself to break the terse silence that had settled between the two men who were steadily backtracking along their own steps. It was evident from the large man's posture that he was still _very_ unhappy with the current situation, even as he stepped lightly over the green undergrowth in a way that seemed impossible considering his impressive stature. Matthew on the other hand stumbled ineloquently behind him, making all sorts of noise that earned quite a few disapproving looks from the King.

It didn't take them as long as Matthew would have thought to reach their initial 'landing' area, and Matthew realized dishearteningly that he probably hadn't made as good headway into the forest as it had first thought.

Once there, Ivan didn't even bother slowing down as he walked right past the broken Silver Branch and over to Matthew's discarded Rain Jacket. Picking up the crumpled up piece of clothing, he then threw it harshly back towards Matthew.

"I would suggest… wearing that… and it would be in your best interest… not to remove it again." The King didn't bother waiting for Matthew's reaction before promptly digging his heel into the ground and dragging it around the smaller blonde to form a large dirt circle.

The unbearably hot and humid day had by now cooled down into a somewhat tepid and humid evening. While it did feel almost chilly compared to earlier, it was only an illusion created by the temperature difference, and certainly nothing to entice Matthew to put on his warm toggle coat again.

But for the moment he wasn't prepared to argue with the stern King, not after what he'd just witnessed back there with the "birds".

"Why are you doing that?" Matthew forced himself to ask as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the muggy forest with a half done up jacket on while he wrung his hands together to ease his discomfort of the situation.

At first it looked as if Ivan was going to just ignore him, but once the King had finished drawing his large circle, he easily stepped inside it along with Matthew.

"I'm calling forth a protection ward." The King commented offhandedly as he peered down at his handy work in order to confirm that his circle had no imperfections that he might not have previously noticed.

"A-and then?" Matthew didn't really want to ask, but he was still very much in the dark about his situation and status in this new world, especially with concerns to the large man before him who'd barely spoken a handful of words, and none of them particularly welcoming.

"And then…" Ivan stopped doing whatever it was that he was doing to stare down at Matthew, perhaps contemplating actually sharing some information with him, before deciding strongly against it. "And then… you should go to sleep."

"And what will you do while I sleep?" Matthew sat himself down onto a log that was lying in the middle of the circle, shooting the King a look full of the mistrust he felt towards the other man.

Ivan ignored him once again as he knelt down onto his hands and knees and pressed his pale forehead onto the ground while spreading his palms out flat and stretching his fingers wide apart. A bright glow shot out unexpectedly from his hands and penetrated deep into the earth, causing the ground to vibrate loudly as if a jackhammer had just struck stone. Mathew gasped out loud as he saw the circle Ivan had just created begin to glow a familiar blue colour that did not fade even after the King had stood back up onto his feet.

Brushing off the leaves and dirt that covered his knees, Ivan turned to face his prisoner, proving that he had in fact been listening before as he spread his arms out wide in a mocking gesture.

"And I… I am going to work hard thinking of a way to save us both from the trouble you continue to cause me… before the Summer King learns of your presence… if he has not already done so."

"W-who… who is the Summer King? Someone like you?" Matthew winced internally at the thought. The last thing he needed was another King like Ivan to deal with.

The King smiled brightly down at Matthew. "No… he is nothing like me. The Summer King would not be nearly as kind or as generous as I have been."

Matthew shot out of his seat with a stubborn set to his jaw. "G-generous? Kind? Is that what you call how you've been treating me?" Matthew could literally feel the resentment bubbling up without warrant from his insides, causing him to foolishly throw caution to the wind. "I've been attacked, man handled and belittled since the moment I first arrived here. And all I've wanted to do is go back home… if… if only you'd just let me."

Ivan was clearly unmoved by the outburst and only bothered to raise a single brow while continuing to speak as if addressing a child.

"Then _perhaps…_ you should have allowed me send you home instead of attempting to put matters into your own hands." The Kings voice was calm as it tried to maintain that sweet quality that he always used, but there was an edge present that betrayed Ivan's true emotions on the subject.

"Well maybe _you_ should have actually told me something instead of keeping me in the dark and treating me like an animal to be transported in a cage."

"But… to us… you _are_ nothing more than an animal." Ivan titled his head as if he were stating the most well known fact in the world.

Matthew stopped his brave attempts to stand up for himself and his eyes widened at the implications that the King might actually truly believe those horrible words.

Killer faeries be damned, he wasn't going to stay another moment with this madman. Matthew didn't even bother retaliating before he turned around to try and run back into the woods.

He didn't make it very far and was shortly tackled to the ground before he even managed to run more than a couple of steps.

"Do _not_ cross that line." Ivan whispered harshly into his ear as he forced his head cruelly into the ground by his hair. The King's other gloved hand pulled his arm roughly into a painful position behind his back.

Matthew was almost shaking now in frustration at the helplessness of his situation. He knew that he couldn't fight off the larger man like he had done with Francis, with or without magic, but he was petrified of what would happen if he stayed there any longer.

Ivan easily picked him up off of the ground by his jacket, and tossed him like a rag doll back towards the centre of the circle without offering any other form of explanation.

And because of that, Matthew didn't even wait until he'd fully landed before charging off again to make another run for it.

"FINE…. just… _stop_... running!" Ivan yelled at him, fully losing his composure for the first time since Matthew had spoken to the man. The King looked genuinely worried that he was going to lunge across the barrier, enough so that Matthew actually did stay put, although he kept himself poised and ready to run if he needed to do so.

"Sit… _please_" The request was said harshly and for the moment Matthew chose to ignore him, continuing to stare definitely at the King, despite the tears of frustration he knew were lurking behind his every action.

The King composed himself as he schooled his features, but his watchful eyes never left Matthew's side for a second. "Despite what your race chooses to believe, we do not have an endless supply of magic… if you continue to run… I may not be able to keep you alive."

Matthew finally eased up in his stance, fear of the forest that the King had just saved him from finally overriding his momentary lapse of judgment.

"I just… I just want some answers…" Matthew whispered, his bravado draining away from him all at once. "I-I… I still don't know what's going on."

Ivan's lips drew themselves into a tight line, but he made no motion of easing up until he was sure that Matthew wasn't going anywhere, motioning again for him to have a seat "Then… what would you to like know?"

Matthew did take a seat then, albeit reluctantly.

"W-where am I?"

"The Summer Kingdom." Ivan walked closer to Matthew; his movements were deceivingly calm and unaggressive… much like he was approaching a trapped or wounded animal.

The actions did nothing to endear himself to Matthew.

"And where is that… I mean all of this? Is this world even real?" The comment earned him an annoyed look from the King.

"Tir Na Nog is far more real than your own world, human, and it has been around much longer"

"But then what are all of you? And what are those Faerie things that keep attacking me? And what is this magic you and Francis keep using… are you both wizards?" Matthew tried to equate what he'd seen so far with the few fantasy books that he'd read in the past, but nothing was quite matching up with the world around him.

"Wi-zards?" Ivan mouthed the unfamiliar word quietly while slowly shaking his head. "Francis is nothing more than a trickster. He knows parlor tricks and illusions only."

Matthew furrowed his brow in confusion… Francis had easily overpowered him twice with those 'illusions'.

"Then what are you?"

"I am a _King_." If possible Ivan's smile broadened dangerously.

"But… a King of what?" Matthew asked without realizing just how impertinent such a question might sound.

"I am a Sidhe Royal of the Seeley court… a fact you would do well to remember, human." Ivan answered defensively while he narrowed his eyes in warning.

Sidhe? Seeley court? It was hard for words to intimidate Matthew when he had no idea what the meaning behind them was.

"The Faerie creatures that attacked you are nothing compared to what I could do to you if I so chose; they are weak and powerless animals… just like you… there is nothing special about them. While you are right to fear them… you should fear me more."

"Except that they keep trying to kill me." Matthew crossed his arms defiantly and scowled deeply, increasingly agitated by the continued slights being directed at him.

"Well… they can hardly be blamed for that." Ivan casually commented back.

At first Matthew thought that the King was trying to be glib and insult him further, but one look at the expressionless face showed him that he was being all too serious with his remark.

"Everything in this world will want to take advantage of your human nature; even _you_ must have realized that by now."

Matthew furrowed his brows as he began to worry his lower lip. Of course he'd noticed… he just didn't… understand it.

"T-the way Francis was looking at me… and you told him he was corrupted by me… he didn't just look at me like he wanted to kill me… not like those creatures did… it was more like he was suddenly… obsessed with me… like when he had… tasted my b-blood… that it was like some kind of love potion or something…"

Ivan's gaze instantly turned dark, he was clearly unhappy with the way the conversation was moving. "Love… what does your race know of love? Your kind is consumed by greed and your insatiable lust for power and the destruction of war that inevitably follows it. You could not possibly be the cause an emotion as strong and as pure as 'love' from a Fae…" Ivan shook his head in thinly veiled loathing. "No… you are nothing more than a dangerous poison that eats away at our very souls with false desires… until we either succumb entirely… or die trying."

Matthew sat wide-eyed and stunned at the quiet intensity and the vehemence in the other man's words. The King continually managed without fail to make him feel like he had stolen away in the night in order to bring forth death and destruction to his land… when nothing could be further from the truth.

Ivan was now evidently highly irritated by the quick turn in the conversation and chose to end it abruptly.

"You should sleep while you can; we have a long journey tomorrow. And, I repeat... Do _not_… try to run! Any further attempts on your part will only prolong your absence from home… if not permanently. It may not seem it… but I _am_ trying to hasten your return. And I would appreciate it if you did not make my efforts any more difficult than they already will be… for both our sakes."

Not another word was spoken and Ivan turned away completely, leaving Matthew to brood on his own.

Truthfully his energy and courage had long since left him during his short and mostly unhelpful talk with the powerful King. Matthew had subsequently returned to feeling lost, alone and very insecure about his overall condition.

Matthew silently unwrapped the red sweater that clung to his waist, and used it as a makeshift pillow before lying down and facing the fallen log. If he closed his eyes tightly enough, he could just about manage to pretend that he wasn't in the worst circumstances of his life… but instead safely back at home with Arthur… ever watchful just outside of his bedroom door… in an alternate reality where he had instead remained blissfully asleep in his soft bed.

xxxx

_Dreams were a funny thing really, most times you were completely unaware that the fantastical things that you were witnessing could be anything other than the absolute truth… and other times… you knew that you were dreaming and yet… you didn't._

_Matthew was sitting wide-awake in the center of the Faerie circle that the King had made for them… but Ivan was nowhere to be found._

_The humidity and heat could not be felt in any way, and overall there was peacefulness to his surroundings that Matthew had not felt in what seemed like a long time._

"_Hello" A sweet cherub like voice called from up above._

_Matthew swiveled his head around to see the most unlikely sight of a cheerful young man hanging upside-down on a low branch in one of the trees._

"_H-hello." Matthew answered him in turn, raising his hand in a weak greeting._

_The young brunette broke out into a huge grin before laughing and jumping down from the tree, happily taking a seat on the ground just outside of the circle._

"_It's very, very nice to meet you… but… what are you doing in my forest?" The stranger cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and curious, but his smile radiated freely offered trust._

_Matthew's eyes grew sad at the question, not wanting to break the pleasant moment with a reminder of his sorry state of affairs._

"_Nooo don't be sad. You are most welcome to visit my forest anytime. I am very happy to have you here." The stranger's head nodded eagerly in an ecstatic confirmation of his statement._

_Matthew managed a tentative smile, relieved to have one person… even in a dream…. to be genuinely happy to see him._

"_I'm sorry… I'll try not to be sad… I'm just a little bit homesick… b-but your forest is very nice… although… it just doesn't like me very much."_

_The brunette smiled happily and shook his head strongly to disagree with Matthew. "It doesn't hate you… you are just such a bright jewel that I am afraid you tempt the inhabitants very badly."_

_Matthew's face fell again at the mention of any sort of temptation. "I am not trying to tempt anyone… I just want to go home."_

_The bubbly youth started rocking back and forth like an impatient toddler. "We would be very sad to see you go… but if you really wanted to, I could help you if you'd like."_

"_R-really!" Matthew's head shot up with such a look of happiness and gratitude that the joyful spirit giggled out loud._

"_Of course I will help. You just have to let me know where you are, and then I can show you the path to leave."_

_Matthew licked his lips before biting down on his lower lip in annoyance at his own ignorance. "But… I don't know where I am… and this is just a dream… so I don't think you will be able to help me anyways."_

_The spirit laughed out loud again, shrugging his shoulders to show that this was a non-issue. "True… this is a dream, but I am as real the grass you lay sleeping on as we speak."_

"_A-are you a forest spirit then? Are you able to maybe 'feel' where I am? My name is Matthew…W-what is your name?" Matthew all but blurted out his questions with excitement. Here was finally someone… or something that was willing to answer his queries with a smile. _

_The gentle spirit only laughed out loud with increased mirth._

"_So many questions… well I will happily answer what I can… my name is Feliciano and yes I can feel that you are here… how could I not? It would be like not noticing if the Sun had decided to take a walk among the trees. But I am very sorry to say… I do not know where you are… not exactly… just that you… have arrived. I wish I could be more of a help."_

_Matthew smiled reassuringly. "It's alright… but maybe… maybe you could come back tomorrow night… I might know more next time…"_

_Feliciano's grin was so wide now that Matthew could almost make out every pearly white tooth. The spirit was obviously happy that Matthew wanted to see him again. "I will I will I will. I promise that I will come visit you every chance that I get."_

_Matthew desperately wanted to talk some more; he had so many things he needed to ask. But dreams did not control the waking world; it was the opposite in fact._

_And before he got the chance to learn another thing… he was awoken…_

_xxxxx_

Matthew's upper body shot forward through the air as he gasped for breath, his face and upper torso suddenly covered in a dousing of cold water that appeared to have manifested out of thin air… until he caught sight of the a large shadow standing menacingly over his body.

"Do you intend to sleep throughout the entire day?" The calm voice asked him, entirely too insincere for his liking.

Matthew scowled as he angrily wiped the water off of his face. He regretted the action immediately once he realized just how warm the morning was already turning out to be even at this early hour.

He absently noted how Ivan appeared fully prepared to step off at that very moment, and Matthew rubbed away at his sleep filled eyes before yawning loudly.

"Are we leaving already? Aren't we going to eat breakfast first?" Matthew's stomach growled in answer to his own query. He realized with horror that he had not had a morsel of food to eat since the fish soup he'd barely touched during dinner with Arthur.

The King spread his arms apart to show that he had nothing to offer, his expression deceivingly innocent. "I am afraid that even the powers of a King have their limits. I cannot foresee into the future… and therefore did not pack properly for my surprise journey at your side."

Matthew ignored the insult as he raked his tired hand through his wavy hair, noticing with displeasure that the humid environment was causing small curls to form along the sides.

"Is there nothing we can eat… no berries or plants that are edible?"

"This is not my country that you chose to send us to… I might suggest a plant to eat… but it might as soon kill you as fill your empty belly."

An idea instantly came to Mathew's hunger induced thoughts as he remembered the bread that Arthur had insisted he take with him for just such an occasion. While he was fully aware that the King and everyone else here seemed to believe it held some magical properties… much like Mike had jokingly told him back at the shop, Matthew had brought with him more than enough to spare a piece or two.

Reaching inside his large watertight pockets, he pulled out a piece of the Hard Tack and started to nibble on the crust to soften the hard bread with his saliva.

The force of the blow that knocked his hand away from the bread was so strong that Matthew released a loud scream before clutching his bruised hand to his chest.

"Are you crazy?" Matthew demanded through clenched teeth.

"Do not waste the only protection you have in this world because you cannot bare to go without a morning meal."

Matthew bent down to pick up the fallen bread, and would have gladly eaten the rest just to spite the King if the food didn't take so long to consume. Instead, he angrily shoved the bread back into his pocket, but not without first defending his actions somewhat. "I haven't eaten in almost 2 days, and my pockets are full of Hard Tack… it wouldn't have mattered."

Ivan shook his head in disapproval, booking no argument as he threw a flask of water into Matthew's unprepared arms. "Drink this for now…"

Matthew didn't hesitate to listen as he drank as much of the surprisingly cold water as he could, although it did little to negate his hunger.

He tossed the flask back to Ivan and without another word crossed the threshold of the circle, taking a smile amount of joy at the startled look that passed over Ivan's features.

And all of a sudden he knew why the King had not wanted him to go near the circle outline the night before… but it wasn't for the reasons he'd first suspected.

The moment Matthew came into contact with the invisible barrier that had only made its presence known by the constant soft blue glow in the dirt, Matthew could feel that same strange energy as before soak up through his feet as if he were a sponge. The light flickered along the edges of the circle before fading away completely and somehow washing through his system like a wave on a beach.

Matthew would be outright lying if he said that the feeling had been in any way unpleasant.

He turned back to look at the irate King who pushed past him in annoyance, clearly unsurprised by what had just happened as he grabbed the sleeve of Matthew's jacket at the same time forcefully pulled him away.

"D-did you see that… I-I… the energy… it…"

But Ivan refused to answer him and continued to force him along in silence, until Matthew finally brushed the gloved hands off of him in irritation and followed behind while he pondered what he'd just witnessed, along with everything else that he had noticed so far during his short time there.

While most things were still about as clear as mud in Matthew's mind, he was nonetheless starting to put a few of the puzzle pieces together, with or without Ivan's help.

Yes, Matthew did seem to cause those around him to act in… strange ways, but at the same time, whatever 'magic' or energy that the creatures in this world possessed… he almost seemed able to… redirect it like… a metal conductor. It was an unconscious action to be sure and obviously something Ivan didn't particularly want him to be aware of… but it _was_ there.

Matthew wasn't quite sure how this knowledge was going to help in the future… whatever he was doing, it had not in any way prevented Ivan from performing that impressive displays the day before… but still …it was _something_ at least.

The pair of unlikely travel companions continued to trek deep into the forest in not quite the same direction that Matthew had aimed for the other day. Far too soon all the good feelings he'd amassed from his self discovery were quickly erased as the morning sun began to heat up the already uncomfortably hot atmosphere.

Matthew could feel the beads of sweat rolling down from his temple, and his jacket was starting to plaster itself against his back as the nature of the waterproof design prevented any airflow whatsoever. That, along with his empty stomach, was soon beginning to make him feel just a bit lightheaded.

Looking carefully ahead at the path that Ivan was blazing, Matthew slowly began to remove his jacket with the intention of wrapping it around his waist much like his sweater. But no sooner did he free one of arms than the King stopped dead in his tracks in front of him, and Matthew could have sworn he saw a dark aura appear around him, much like the time that Ivan had attacked his own nephew.

"Put… on… your… _jacket_." The King's voice was low and dangerous.

He was not asking… he was demanding compliance.

Matthew unwillingly stopped his attempts to remove the jacket, and sighed heavily into the stifling heat.

The King himself was still fully clothed in his long jacket, leather gloves and scarf, and Matthew could not even begin to understand how the other man was not feeling the same effects that he himself felt under the rays of the beating sun.

The King continued to walk forward as if nothing had transpired, and Matthew unenthusiastically began to follow again n silence. But it wasn't long before that light dizzy feeling turned into one of a more serious nature.

His breathing soon became increasingly shallow and erratic the further they walked into the dense undergrowth, and Matthew was finding it harder and harder to watch his steps as they the forged along the unbeaten path.

Matthew knew his cheeks were flushed beyond reason, well before his vision started to blur in tandem with the heat waves that he could see dancing and rolling along the edges of the vegetation stretched out before him. He in turn gently leaned against one of the trees in order to stabilize his swaying body.

Matthew swallowed roughly with his dry throat as he brought a hand up to wipe away the sweat soaked hair that clung to the sides of his head relentlessly, but it did little to make the ground stop spinning beneath his feet.

"I-I think… I think I need to take a break." Matthew barely whispered while short of breath, speaking much too quiet for anyone else to actually hear.

But before he could seat himself safely on the forest floor, Mathew felt his eyes roll back into his lids and his head loll lifelessly to the side as he fell unconsciously onto the surprisingly soft ground.

TBC...

xxxx

Author's Comments:

YAY Italy…. veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….

Popped in Otakon today, and saw a bar nearby… Tir Na Nog (just like the one in Kingston Ontario)… thought it's a sign…. To have a drink, and then put another chapter out… so I did (both).

To Pub, to Pub, to Pub we go ;)


	6. The Fine Line

**Chapter 6 – The Fine Line**

Arthur looked down at the pitiful sight of the trickster Sidhe known simply to all as 'Francis', who now hung unconsciously while being supported by Gilbert and Alfred on either side. He shook his head slightly in disapproval, his expression betraying his annoyance at seeing his old acquaintance in such a manner.

"What sort of trouble has this bastard been causing while I've been away? He's not drunk on wine is he?"

"He tried to steal the King's Silver Bough." Gilbert shrugged his shoulders to indicate that this was par for the course, but his red eyes flashed briefly in a telling fashion, letting Arthur know without meaning to that he was attempting to hide something from the other man.

Arthur smirked at that, raising a thick eyebrow in amusement. "Fancy himself a little trip did he? I see he's still the same fool as always, especially if he thought that he could hide such a thing from Ivan, even if he did run off to the other Kingdoms."

"Yeah, except he wasn't exactly planning on paying the Queen a visit, more like he was on his way to pay his respects to you."

Arthur snorted in disgust, thinking even less of his old associate than before… if that was even possible. Francis hadn't really been on his way to visit him, more likely he would have done everything in his power to avoid the old knight. But the weak-willed trickster wasn't just a fool, but also delusional, if he imagined that he would have been able to handle a world full of humans.

"He wouldn't have lasted a day before he fell to temptation," Arthur mused out loud. "He's fortunate you caught him in time. Perhaps his luck hasn't run out quite yet?" he chuckled quietly to himself but stopped when he noticed that the other two didn't seem quite as amused as he did.

Alfred remained silent, but shared a glance with Gilbert that set the former knight instantly ill at ease.

"What are you not telling me Gilbert…?" Arthur cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in distrust of the young Sidhe standing before him. To his surprise, it was Alfred who spoke up, his eyes hard, and voice devoid of any emotion other than that of dislike.

"You got it right the first time; Francis is drunk alright… drunk off of your little _pet_."

Gilbert shot his knight a reprimanding glare and whispered an angry 'Alfred' under his breath to keep him from saying another word.

Any humour that Arthur had been displaying evaporated in an instant. His green eyes darkened noticeably as his thin lips tightened into a displeased frown. When he finally managed to compose his anger into something resembling words, it was obvious that he was barely containing the rage brewing inside of him.

"You… you let _him_ drink from _Matthew_?" The words were not spoken with any concern for Francis' sake, but out of possessiveness for the ward that Arthur had spent the last twenty years watching over, a fact that did not go unnoticed by either Knight present.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed until his frown matched the one in front of him. "Hey, it's not like we just up and offered the human to him. Francis was the one who found your boy, _and_ I'll have you know that if it hadn't been for _me_, he'd still have him."

The hatred Arthur was now directing towards Francis was almost blinding, and there was no doubt that there was barely concealed jealousy hiding behind the façade that the former knight tried to put forth. "I would advise you to put him down like a wounded beast… if it weren't for the fact that we are going to need his help in retrieving Matthew."

"What do you mean?" Gilbert asked, not nearly as well versed in the affairs of humans as the older Sidhe seemed to be. Not surprisingly the topic of humans was generally left out of teachings in order to curb any interest a young Sidhe like him might have on the subject.

"Matthew's blood courses through his veins even as we speak. Judging by your disorganized state, I take it Matthew has tried to escape with the Silver Bough, and Ivan of course would have gone after him. If they could have come back by now… they would have. And _you_ two obviously have no idea where they are… so we are left using the only tool we have… Francis. He is connected to my ward, whether we like it or not. And he _is_ going to be the one to help us get him back. And then… I will personally kill him myself for the crime he has committed."

Alfred shifted beside them, noticeably unhappy. "A fine way to treat your old friend isn't it? Guess you really did cut ties when you decided to leave for good. It's not Francis' fault he was unlucky enough to be stuck with your perverted cursed spawn. We should just as soon deal with that brat the moment we find him; it would save all of us all a lot of trouble."

The slap that connected with Alfred's left cheek happened so quickly that no one had any time to react. Arthur didn't hold back with the strike, and it was obviously meant as more than a warning, it was an outright reprimand.

Gilbert's eyes went wide in surprise at Arthur's actions. In all the years the older Sidhe had reared his young protégé… he'd never once raised a hand to him.

Not until now.

The former knight was visibly shaking… his composure only seconds away from breaking entirely. "Do _NOT _speak of things you know _nothing_ about! That cursed 'spawn' is the most gentle, loving being I have ever had the honour of knowing… and raising him has been a privilege. I would as soon slit all your throats here and now before another hair on his head is harmed… Do I make myself clear?"

The hurt in Alfred's eyes was more than evident, even as he raised his left hand to survey the red mark that was forming on his sore cheek, but he did not back down for a single second, his internal pain showing itself only as more confrontation.

"You can't kill him… can you? You're just as corrupted by that mindless animal as Francis is… maybe he's not the only one who couldn't resist a sip of human blood. Maybe it's _you_ who needs to be dealt with!"

Before Arthur could react in his fury, Gilbert dropped his hold on the prisoner and jumped in between the two fighting men.

"ENOUGH! Or I will hold you both for high treason this very instant," Gilbert growled as he looked back and forth between the two men. If nothing else, his inability to use magic made him very good at utilizing brute strength when needed.

"Alfred, stand down this instant and begin reining those horses properly. We have stayed here long enough and need to get back on the trail before nightfall. And you!" He turned to face the seething green eyes that were still staring at equally livid blue ones across from him. "You may be powerful, but even _you_ know our laws on this matter. If you have been corrupted in any manner, I demand to know now."

Arthur looked like he was about to rebuttal with something along the lines of 'or you'll do what?', but he instead shook his head as if to wash away his momentary lapse of reason, and change the direction of his gaze.

"I have never so much as _touched_ that boy in any inappropriate way other than to raise him to the best of my ability as a normal human child. Do not pretend to lecture me on laws and orders, for it is because of them that I have been in exile for the last few decades, and all in order to ensure the safety of this kingdom… and all its _ungrateful_ inhabitants." The last bit was said with a clearly directed sidelong glance at Alfred, who by now was backing away in anger to unhitch the horses.

"If you want the full truth… then of course I am not unaffected by the years of being in his constant presence… but you would have no better luck killing him than I did, of that I can assure you."

None of this was news to Gilbert, who at least knew that much about humans in general, but Alfred wasn't convinced as he turned back to yell over his shoulder from where he held two horses in hand.

"You could have at least _tried_; he didn't look too impressive when I saw him… I can't believe for a second he was any better as a little whelp."

"Of course we tried!" Arthur yelled back before closing his dull eyes to center himself. "You are young, Alfred… and clearly untrained… and for that I only have myself to blame. But do you truly believe that we would have not have tried to eliminate the greatest threat our land has seen since the last war?"

"Then why didn't you? Why did you run off with him to play 'human', instead of staying here… where you BELONGED!" Years of pent up emotions erupted as Alfred's temper began to increase the more he talked with his former mentor. Gilbert was about to step in again in order to take command of the situation, but a calm hand on his shoulder stopped the Royalty from saying another word.

"Because Alfred… our kind doesn't have it in ourselves to harm them… we never have… and we never can. We are slaves to their souls and always have been. When I held… his shaking little body over that cliff… I would have sooner thrown myself over it than have allowed another to tear to fall onto his cheek. And you… you might think me weak or call me what you will, but even the most powerful man in Tir Na Nog, the 'great' King Ivan was unable to finish the task when I failed so spectacularly. And it was him alone that ordered me to take him away from this land… and I wouldn't have said no… not even if I had wanted to."

xxxxxxxx

_The soft pleasant sound of someone humming with abandon wafted through the edges of Matthew's consciousness, flowing and bubbling around him like fresh water from a summer brook._

_Matthew felt like he was floating high up upon a cloud where nothing or no one could ever do him harm. His mind was fuzzy and yet there was a feeling of peaceful contentment inside him that made him perfectly happy to stay where he was, the stress and unwanted worry that had been haunting him for the past few days was all but forgotten as he was lulled further into the safety of his mind._

_A cool cloth could be felt along his brow, gently being pressed to wipe away any traces of sweat or heat. Matthew could barely contain the languid smile that crept up on his face, for it all seemed like a beautiful dream._

"_Oh… you're awake." The humming stopped, and Matthew opened his eyes to see that he was not in fact floating at all, but was instead sprawled out gently underneath the shade of a tree, his head resting on a soft patch of moss while he looked up into impossibly wide auburn eyes and a welcoming smile._

"_I was not expecting you back so soon… and you are much paler than when I left you. You had me very worried__,__ my new friend." The one hand continued to wipe his forehead with the cool cloth, while another stroked back his damp hair and unwanted curls, even going so far as to wrap his finger around a wayward curl in delight._

_Matthew's throat was no longer dry, but he still found it hard to speak for some reason. "I…. I think… I fainted__,__" __h__e admitted in embarrassment._

_Feliciano's face fell as if Matthew had told him the worst news in the world and the normally happy little spirit pulled his weak friend into a tight hug. "I am so sorry that I am not there to help you… to keep you safe. To think that you are all alone and lost in my woods with no one to guide you." He let go of Matthew to allow him to lie back down, but made sure to keep one hand continually stroking his hair back while he gazed upon him with the same fondness as a mother would with a beloved child._

"_I-I'm not alone… "Matthew looked away from the friendly spirit as he thought of the uncaring and selfish King who had probably not even noticed he had fallen from heat exhaustion… probably didn't even care._

_Feliciano's hands stilled when Matthew said this, and his happy features fluttered for moment before the smile was firmly back in place. "But if you are not alone… then why are you suffering like this. Surely no Fae could wish you harm… its not possible." The spirit shook his head in disbelief at the very idea._

"_I'm with a King named Ivan… but… he's not… very happy to have me around."_

_All ministrations stopped as soon as Ivan's name was mentioned and Feliciano developed an expression of deep worry._

"_O-oh… I feel like such a fool now… but of course you were not alone… you could not have made a circle on your own with no magic… but… to have Ivan with you… this will make things more difficult…"_

_Matthew shot up from where he lay, licking his lips in worry as he grabbed a hold of Feliciano's shoulders. "Please don't leave me alone with him… I'll do whatever I have to do, anything you tell me, but please… just don't leave me alone with him…" _

_Feliciano gently laid the distressed young man back onto the unbelievably soft grass and moss, his face softening upon hearing the worried cries falling from Matthew's lips._

_He smiled brightly again. "Ve, there is not need to worry. I won't let ANY harm come to you while you are in my forest. Ivan is a cruel brute of a King… and I wish I could tell you that you are safe with him… but I can at least assure you that he is not as powerful when he is away from his own frozen lands." _

_The reassurance did little to ease Matthew's mind, if he had been witnessing the "weakened' side of the Winter King, he wasn't particularly keen to see the full version. _

"_S-should… I try to run away again… I did before… b-but your birds attacked me." _

_Feliciano laughed, although Matthew wasn't quite sure what was so funny about his words. "I do not know what 'birds' are, but there is nothing in my forest as dangerous as Ivan."_

_Matthew nodded sagely. "That's what he said too."_

_More melodic laughter._

"_Do not worry, for now you are safe, as long as you are in my forest and do not return with him to his kingdom. For now… you'll just have to wait until I can figure out where you are, but the longer I stay by your side… the easier it will be for me to find you… do you understand__?__ " _

_Matthew bit his lower lip in an old familiar sign of anxiety. "Not really… but I will do what I can. Because… because you're not scared to touch me… and you don't think I'm some kind of monster… right?" His expression must have relayed how worried he was about the answer, because Feliciano leaned forward all of a sudden, his gentle brown eyes portraying a depth of emotion that Matthew almost found hard to believe could come from someone whom he'd only known for such a short amount of time._

"_Oh Matthew… how could anyone say something so horrible about someone as beautiful and special as you__?__ No… you are not some mindless creature. You are meant for great things... and you are… more… than fit for a King." Feliciano finished speaking with a soft and tender smile as he carefully closed the distance between the two of them, laying an innocent and sweet kiss upon Matthew's surprised mouth._

_But the kiss was not pleasant in any way at all, and the warm lips felt as if they burned uncomfortably against his already overheated face. The action caused him to sway back into the ground, and it was the last thing Matthew felt before reality once again forced him to awaken._

_xxxx _

When Matthew awoke for the second time, he was no longer met with the soft brown eyes that had made him feel safe and cared for, but instead it was the cold violet orbs that betrayed nothing in the form of emotion other than to instantly chill his heart.

Matthew's head was throbbing painfully from an internal headache that could only have come about from severe heat stroke, and his vision was still blurry from the fall.

Much to his dismay, the ground was no longer soft and welcoming as it had been in his dream, but instead it proved to be hard and wholly unforgiving. His jacket had been opened wide to allow for the passage of air. And the only thing that had stayed the same from his vision with the forest spirit, was the cool compress that Ivan was meticulously pressing against his brow, and along the major arteries against his exposed throat.

Although Matthew was slowly regaining consciousness, his eyes must have appeared as unfocused as his vision felt, because the King gently took a hold of his chin with his leather covered fingers and moved his head back and forth to establish his level of awareness.

The action made him feel woozy again, and his eyes momentarily rolled back into his skull as he felt himself slip back into the darkness. The only thing stopping him this time around was the tap of the King's hand against his cheek, just strong enough to refocus his attention to the bottomless empty eyes that scared Matthew so very much when seen from up close.

He swallowed hard again, just like he had in his dream, but this time his dry and cracked throat was unable to produce any words. The violet eyes above him were beginning to burn in a way that made his sick stomach roll, and despite his inability to properly control the muscles in his body, Matthew somehow managed to find the strength to lift his right hand off of the ground and raise it with the intention of pushing that hateful gaze away.

Ivan jerked back just in time before he made contact, and he angrily swatted Matthew's hand to the side with a scowl that only _just_ hid how uncomfortable his close proximity was for the stoic King.

Matthew could only groan out load as his free hand fell back onto his painful forehead and he closed his sore eyes to try and relieve some of the tension in his headache. His fingers massaging his temple briefly before going completely still when he noticed something different about his face, something he'd only barely taken note of in his dream… but at the same time… he hadn't…

… he was missing something.

"M-my glasses? Where are they?" Matthew tried to sit up so as to look around, but the quick action made him dizzy all over again, and he lurched to the side unexpectedly as a wave of disorientation overcame him. He would have fallen face forward had it not been for a pair of strong arms that caught him easily and laid him back down onto the earth below.

"Do you mean… these?" The King presented the broken pair of glasses that had been lying off to the side, obviously unaware of their function as he held onto them by one of the broken lenses. Matthew could only exhale slowly to control his dismay at the blurry sight.

Great… just great, he thought. Not only did he manage to prove Ivan right about how useless and weak he was, over and over again, but now… he was also partially blind to boot.

How was it possible that he had been swept away by the ocean, fallen through a…. wormhole of some sort… twice at that, been attacked by a heard of crazed beasts… how could he have gone through all that with his glasses intact, and then lose them in a little fainting spell.

Matthew was truly beginning to wonder if he would be able to go on at this rate. If the King chose to leave him behind now… there was no way he was going to survive on his own, he was completely and utterly dependant on the other man now.

The bright sunlight shone mercilessly above him, and the continual midday heat was still going so strong that Matthew had to scrunch his eyelids tightly together just in an attempt to refocus his scattered thoughts. And all the while, Ivan remained at his side in order to silently monitor his vital signs.

"I forgot… how fragile humans were…" The King quietly muttered to himself, his voice steady and filled with just a hint of morbid curiosity at the idea.

Matthew opened his eyes wide, ignoring the instant pain it caused his rattled brain as he looked up at Ivan who was mostly a shadowy figure against the bright sun.

"W-what…?" Matthew managed to whisper in a raspy voice. But it looked as if the King was done saying his piece.

Matthew could only sigh deeply to himself as he leaned back further onto what he now realized was his red wool sweater while he re-evaluated his situation. And as he laid there in the warm shade trying to will his head to cease aching, the King made no attempts whatsoever to force him to stand, and in fact looked ready to stop him if he tried so much as to sit up again.

Matthew watched as Ivan stared unhappily down at the ground in agitation, obviously deep in his own thoughts, before pursing his lips tightly and looking up at the sky as if it would somehow give him some much needed strength and wisdom. And then finally, he looked back down to Matthew with a determined expression of resignation locked firmly on his face.

"We can not risk staying here any longer… so I would ask that you… remain very still..." Ivan didn't bother to explain any further, and Matthew grew relatively concerned by the trace hints of apprehension in the King's calculated movements. The King abandoned the cool cloth along Matthew's exposed clavicle and with deep concentration began to rub his leather-clad palms together in much the same way that Francis had done not so long ago.

The King's expression was as hard as stone, and he looked like he was readying himself for battle as he brought his glowing blue gloves close to his lips and breathed in long and deep. But unlike what had happened with Francis, it wasn't just a single ball of energy that could be seen traveling from his hands, the King's _entire_ body suddenly radiated with the strange magic that he appeared to be able to control so well.

If it had been within his own power to do so, Matthew would have backed away as far as he could from the dangerous man kneeling in front of him as the memory quickly resurfaced of what had happened the last time he had seen this particular 'trick' performed. But as it was, he was helpless to do anything other than watch as Ivan slowly approached him with his violet eyes now glowing brighter than ever.

When Ivan had leaned so far forward that his face was almost directly above his own, Matthew could see the large man suppress a visible shudder before issuing a last warning in a stern and deep voice.

"Do not… move. Prove to me that you are as _civilized_ as you claim… that you can… control yourself."

That was all the forewarning he got before Ivan closed the distance between them, and for one horrifying moment, Matthew thought that King was going to kiss him like Feliciano had done before in his dream.

But Ivan did no such thing, and instead titled his head up so as to press a tentative and impossibly cool pair of soft lips to his burning forehead. And only when he had made full contact, did the King… breathe out.

The flood of emotions and overpowering sensations caused Matthew's eyes to roll back into his head for the third time that day, but this time there was no discomfort associated with the action. Instead… there was only pleasure.

Pure undeniable, unbelievable and unimaginable pleasure that stole through his overheated blood in such a way that left him completely oblivious to his surroundings.

Matthew at once felt like he was floating in such a way that was incomparable to his earlier experience in his dream; his body now soaring free of pain and weakness and filled with so much… life… a life that pulsated and breathed like a second completely distinct person.

A second person…

…Ivan…

…Ivan was there too… his confused mind tried to relay back to him.

Matthew could vaguely feel the strong presence holding onto him, clutching his weakened body tightly in his arms as he arched further into the sensation, trying to bring them closer… trying to steal what he could from what was being offered so freely for his taking.

But it wasn't enough.

_More_… his body demanded of him.

He wanted more…

Matthew opened his eyes to observe his foggy surroundings, his dilated pupils doing nothing to aid his already diminished vision, but it was still enough to decipher the strong face that hovered so closely above with an expression that showed just how very lost and not in control the King was at that very moment.

Ivan's eyes were drawn tightly together and the angle of his head had changed so that his chin was pulled into his chest and his forehead was directly in contact with Matthew's own. At some point the King had laid himself out entirely on top of Matthew's body, and was holding onto it as if for dear life.

Matthew could literally _feel_ every breath that Ivan exhaled, and he was sure that he must be stealing the very oxygen from the King's lungs, even while his drunken mind centered on the icy lips that were mere inches from his own. He watched as they involuntarily parted to allow the shallow breaths that escaped in a way that made the King look as if he were exerting a great amount of energy when he was clearly barely moving at all.

An unbidden part of Matthew's waking consciousness forced his hand to reach up and stroke his fingers through the thick platinum blond hair that fell through his grip like woven silk. He would have pulled the man down further in a heartbeat, except… the way that Ivan remained still… with his muscles tensed so dramatically and his body shaking in its efforts to remain unresponsive… it triggered something in the back of his mind. Matthew suddenly became aware that the reason the King was clutching him so tightly wasn't to hold him closer… but so as to prevent any further action on his part…

Slowly… almost too slowly, realization came crashing down onto Matthew, and with an internal strength he did not know that he possessed; he somehow managed to push the other man away and roll off to the side before he could change his mind as his body cried out from the loss of contact.

The after effect left both men breathing heavily off on their own, actively avoiding the other's gaze. And while Matthew now felt like he could run around the forest for days… Ivan remained locked in the same unmoving position; his firsts clenched tightly together as if he dare not move from where he lay.

In what seemed like hours, the King's breathing slowly evened out, and those gem-like eyes cracked open to reveal slivers of hazy purple light. As Matthew watched with bated breath, he saw Ivan breathe in deeply through his nose, before letting it all out in a horrible but controlled trembling of release.

As soon as he could manage, the King then promptly sat up and quickly returned to standing up on his very shaky legs. At no time did the King look back in Matthew's direction, even as he bent down to pick up the discarded cloth that he'd been using to cool him down earlier; the Canadian suddenly realized that it had been the King's scarf as he saw Ivan slowly wrap the still damp piece of clothing around his neck.

Without bothering to discuss what had just transpired, the King barked out an order for them to leave immediately as he began to walk forward into the deep undergrowth of the forest, his expression as schooled and unwavering in its continual display of displeasure over Matthew and… everything associated with him.

And while Matthew knew he should have been thankful for what must have been some sort of sacrifice on the King's part… he felt nothing more than fear.

xxxxxx

TBC…

xxxxxxx

Author's Notes: I can not stress how much agony this chapter has given me.

I always knew what I was going to write, but I had a really hard time trying to put those actions into words and at the same time fully express the proper emotions involved.

Hopefully I somehow managed.

Ahhhhh… Author… out…


	7. The Uneasy Truce

**Chapter 7 – The Uneasy Truce**

For what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon, Matthew could feel his thick rubber boot catch on the underside of an exposed tree root, forcing his ankle to twist roughly as he fell ungracefully to his knees.

Since the moment that Ivan and Matthew had starting trudging deeper into the forest, Matthew had done nothing but walk into trees, hit his head on low branches, and trip over loose rocks and barely concealed roots. He might have said something about it, maybe even have asked the King to slow down and wait… but there had been an uncomfortable silence that had grown between the two. Neither seemed ready to break it, even though it was looking more and more like Matthew was going to break something else if he didn't speak up soon.

Matthew frowned deeply as he stood back up onto his feet and brushed off the grass and moss that now stuck to his pant legs. When he looked back up to follow the King's footsteps, he realized with a panic that he could no longer see the large man in front of him. Everything was too much of a blur. He tried to squint his eyes in an attempt to make order out of the chaos… but the bright lights and intermingling shadows from the tree branches all swirled into one.

He really needed the use of his glasses.

Anxiety filled his belly as Matthew walked a few tentative steps further along what he could assume was the path. He could make out most of what was in front of him, it was just that objects distorted into similarly coloured ones, and anything further than a hand span away was unfocused and unclear. He barely managed a few steps before a small branch hindered his forward momentum and caused him to fall clumsily onto his hands. He fell hard, but didn't make it all the way to the ground as he instead came in contact with the relatively solid surface of the King's abdomen; large strong hands grabbing onto his upper arms to prevent him from falling forward entirely.

Ivan didn't linger in the position and righted the disorientated blonde the moment he had stabilized him from the fall. And Matthew in turn averted his eyes to the ground, embarrassed and nervous that the King had been forced to step in and help him out. They both stood there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, before the King finally felt it was his place to speak up.

"It is dangerous to slow down… the Summer King is beginning to grow wise to your presence, I am sure of it. But… if you are still light headed from the heat… we have no choice but to rest. I do not wish to attempt another spell with you so soon."

Matthew shook his head slowly in anxiety at the suggestion and in disgust at his own uselessness. The King obviously had no idea what glasses were, and for some reason he didn't seem to recognize the signs of poor eyesight.

"I-I feel fine, you're spell… it worked just fine. It's my eyes; I don't see very well without my glasses." Matthew shuffled uncomfortably. He had hoped he would have been able to follow along with the King without revealing that piece of information, but the logistics of orienteering through the unfamiliar forest had proven much more difficult than he'd first anticipated, even with keeping a close watch on the angry King who'd trudged along in front of him.

While Ivan obviously was hesitant to touch him, especially with direct skin contact, he must have felt this new revelation worthy of taking the risk, and he immediately lifted his leather clad hand up to stretch the skin around Matthew's one eye to garner a closer look. It was uncomfortable, but Matthew didn't bother backing away, he knew that the King just didn't understand. No visual examination was going to reveal whatever it was that large man hoped to see.

"You're eyes… they don't _appear_ to be broken." The King's expression darkened minutely. "I hope that this is not a trick to slow down our progress."

Despite the insinuation, Matthew cracked a wistful smile at the comment, before growing morose and hanging his head sadly. "I've never heard anyone else beside my guardian refer to them that way before… broken eyes…" The feeling of regret and loneliness washed over him, his eyes sore from straining and with the threat of tears that he had no intention of letting fall before the King.

Matthew rubbed harshly at his eyelids with the back of his hands, completely oblivious to the curious expression that was being directed his way. "I wonder… if Arthur is very mad at me… he warned me not to go out, and I-I did… and now I'm stuck here. I have no way to let him know that I'm ok… I-I don't even know if I am ok."

Ivan looked confused, his brain trying to comprehend something that Matthew couldn't even begin to fathom. "Arthur?"

"M-my guardian… Arthur. He's probably out there looking for me right now… except that he doesn't know where I am, and he couldn't possibly help me…"

Ivan leaned back, his expression one of distrust and a certain amount of disbelief. "So your guardian… he is alive?"

Not expecting this question at all, Matthew stopped his rambling to gaze back up at the king with tired eyes. "Of course he is… why wouldn't he be? B-but now he's all alone with no one to take care of him… because I'm just as selfish as you think I am, and I wasn't content just to leave things as they were."

But Ivan wasn't listening, his brows creased together in intense thought. "You mean to say… that you care about the well being of your guardian… over your own?"

All feelings of self pity evaporated, and Matthew threw his hands down into angry fists, his voice rising noticeably. "You really do think that about me, don't you? That where I come from we are all heartless monsters that would just as soon kill a man as help him… but from what I can see, none of you have the first idea of what it's like to have a family. I've seen nothing but cruel indifference with you and your own nephew, and a complete lack of care for anyone's well being but your own. Arthur may not have been the ideal father figure… but he was MY father figure, and I loved him… and if I have one regret in my life, it's only that I never got the chance to tell him that." Matthew turned quickly to storm off, angry and hurt, scared and still feeling just as isolated and alone.

He inevitably walked straight into another tree that he'd not seen, and the sting on his forehead, in combination with the sting in his heart, forced him to his knees. That was all it took for Matthew to finally give in utterly to the feelings of self doubt and worry over everything that had happened so far. The realization was as real as ever that he may never see Arthur again, and it hit him like a punch to the gut. Matthew's shoulders started to shake, and the tears that he'd been trying so hard to hide fell with shame down his pale cheeks.

"Y-you may as well go on with me," Matthew sobbed pitifully. "I can't see… I can't keep up with you… I can't do anything… but cause other people trouble... y-you've said as much yourself."

Matthew wanted to say more, but his throat constricted in his sorrow. He didn't want to give up… he just didn't know how he was going to be able to carry on without the use of his vision, not without help… not without someone to guide him.

"I can't leave you here… surely you know that?" Ivan patiently asked from high above him.

Matthew nodded while he sniffled pathetically, he did know that. He just didn't know why. With a great resolve, Matthew breathed in deeply to compose himself, burying inside himself the pride he hadn't known he'd been in possession of. "I-I need your help… I can't do this alone… I thought I could… but I can't. I'm lost in your world."

And he was, in more ways than one.

Ivan considered this, looking back at the lowering sun, deep in thought. "I have been helping you all along."

"But you don't _want_ to be helping me," Matthew whispered, despair heavy in his voice. "You don't like helping me. Don't bother lying about it… I know that you hate me."

Ivan didn't dare deny the accusation, how could he… it was true. But to Matthew's honest surprise, the King took a small step closer. It wasn't the usual show of intimidation, and was almost more to prove to Matthew, and maybe to himself, that he wasn't afraid of the smaller human.

"I am not your enemy… instead, you are mine. Your constant presence puts this world off balance, if I am at fault, then it is only for my wish to keep my country safe." The King scowled deeply, his purple eyes flickering in the haze of Matthew's blurry vision. "But we both have a common desire… to see you put back where you belong. I have already promised to take you home… to bring you back to Arthur, unharmed if I can. You need only to follow me and listen to my commands"

Matthew wiped at his drying eyes, trying to hide the evidence of his unwelcome emotional outburst, now that it had run its course.

"If I… did that, I'd be following you blindly… literally… and… I don't know if I can trust you… you've not given me much to go on. But i-if it gets us out of here in one piece, I'll listen to what you have to say. However… you are going to have to guide me…"

Matthew could see the great bulk that was Ivan's outline lean forward, a single gloved hand appearing before his vision.

"Trust is not something that is easily given out, and it is harder still to take when offered without first being earned." Ivan's normally hard voice softened cautiously. "But sometimes… there is no choice in the matter. _You…_ are forced to trust that I won't lead you into _mortal _danger, and _I_… am forced to trust that you truly do want to return home, despite the many indications otherwise that your actions have so far displayed. And so… we are at an impasse."

Hesitantly, Matthew took the offered palm within his own and let himself be lifted up off of the ground as if he weighed no more than a small child. And when he stood again firmly on his own two feet again, the King did not let go of his hand, but neither did he hold it possessively. The grip was just strong enough to reassure him that someone was close by… that he wouldn't be left behind.

Ivan began to walk back along the path, slower this time, and with a gentle guiding motion so that Matthew would avoid some of the footfalls. They continued to march in silence for some time before the King finally asked a question he must have been mulling over in his mind.

"Your guardian… you say that you cared for him like a father, like he was your family… even though he was not. Did he… care for you like a son as well?"

Although Ivan could not see, Matthew lowered his head fractionally, his mind thinking back to the many times that Arthur had gone to great efforts to inform him that he was _not_ in fact his son… only his ward.

And yet… Matthew was certain that the man had cared for him.

He had always fretted over his well being, had always gone out of his way to cheer him up, or to buy him toys when he'd been ill. And while Arthur had never been a physically affectionate type of person, or eager to talk about his emotions, he'd always taken the time to teach Matthew his lessons with the utmost patience. And when he'd been young, Arthur would read to him the most amazing stories at bedtime until he'd fallen fast asleep with dreams of far off places in his head. And growing up, Matthew had always cherished their lengthy conversations on literature, something Arthur had always been particularly fond of.

"No… he didn't," Matthew conceded, unhappy to think that he might be proving a point that Ivan was trying to make. "But that didn't mean that I loved him any less. He's the only family I have, and at least with him… I always felt safe… and cared for."

Ivan didn't answer, either he'd lost interest in the conversation, or his mind was dwelling heavily on what Matthew had told him. They finished the rest of the journey that day in silence, and only stopped when Ivan found a clearing with a stream.

The King led Matthew to a fallen log and had him sit down to rest while he quickly went to work recreating the 'Protection Circle' from the night before. Although Matthew couldn't make out the details, even his poor eyesight could see the familiar blue light shoot into the ground and cause a dull glow to circle around them.

And for whatever reason, it made him sigh in relief to know that he could sleep without worry.

He still didn't believe that Ivan had his best interests at heart, but at least for the time being he looked willing to go out of his way to ensure that they both escaped the forest alive. Matthew knew that the vision in his dream had told him otherwise… but that had not been real, it was only a dream. In reality he could only count on what he knew already, which was returning to the King's own land, and attempting to make use of the portals a second time.

The sun was lower now, although still present, and Matthew looked forlornly at the babbling stream he could just barely make out with his obscure vision, but could nonetheless hear it crystal clear. Whatever amazing and terrifying spell the King had performed on him earlier, the effects were beginning to wear off, and Matthew was once again hungry, thirsty and desired greatly for the chance to cool off from the exertion of the hike in the cool waters.

The dark blur that was the King stopped in his preparations of their camp, and looked back and forth between the stream and where Matthew sat staring at it in longing.

"If you desire a bath, you should do so quickly. Night will fall soon and we will both need our rest for tomorrow."

Matthew did not waste time in providing a verbal answer, instead quickly stripping away the sweater around his waist, only stopping when he reached the collar to his rain jacket. "Can I take this off?"

The King's expression was unreadable, even if Matthew had been able to see it better. Ivan sat himself down in the middle of the circle and closed his eyes as if to mediate. "If you are quick… and make no sudden movements."

Removing the offending jacket and throwing it to the ground, Matthew gratefully took off his large boots, and rolled up the legs of his pants before finally stripping off his white nightshirt and carefully walking into the knee deep waters.

The water, while not particularly cold, felt amazing as it pooled around his sore muscles, and instantly wicked away any traces of sweat and dirt. Matthew gratefully kneeled down in order to dunk his head fully into the stream, enjoying the way the water trailed down his face and neck after he'd lifted it from the waters below. He indulged himself in his thirst, all the while keeping a cautious eye on the quiet imposing man who sat on the hill watching, and yet not watching him all at the same time.

The King looked as if he were fast asleep, but Matthew knew that nothing could be the further from the truth. He appeared tense, maybe even a little run down, but otherwise made no move to order Matthew about.

Matthew made short work of his bath, and with great regret began walking back towards the bank. The current was far from the strong, but it had just enough push that Matthew momentarily stumbled on one of the slippery rocks, falling back in a flurry of uncontrolled limbs and feeling a sharp cut along the soul of his foot as he did so.

Picking himself up until he was sitting waist deep in the water, Matthew leaned down so as to gaze closely at his blurry foot, only to notice the tiniest trickle of blood escaping into the water. Matthew didn't even have to turn around towards the King to know that the other man was upset with him. The subsequent growl was more than enough warning.

"Leave the water this instant and clothe yourself," the King ordered without moving from where he sat. His eyes were wide open now and his hands were clenched painfully on the top of his knees.

Matthew scrambled back towards the bank, tripping a few times in his haste and poor vision, before finally finding proper footing and limping back towards his discarded jacket. The yellow toggle coat was the very first piece of clothing that Matthew threw back on, wise enough now to know that the creatures of this land had a very poor reaction to his blood, and not eager to tempt fate yet again.

With a good amount of unhappiness, Matthew ripped the bottom strip off of his white t-shirt and wrapped it quickly around his wounded foot, before shoving it unceremoniously back into the boot. He left his sweater on the ground for now, choosing instead to cover himself up completely with the coat before looking anxiously up at the skies to see if any of those creatures had returned.

"T-they aren't going to come back are they?" Matthew stuttered, worried despite himself.

Ivan kept his thoughts to himself like always, and instead replied in a vague non-answer. "The weaker the magic in the creature, the less temptation you are to them… unless you are close by."

Matthew resumed his position on the log, his wet hair dripping water down his face and into his jacket as he tried to understand the King's words. "Is that what you meant by the Summer King knowing I was here … is he the most powerful of your kind?"

Ivan scoffed, momentarily loosening up from his tense stance now that Matthew was clothed once more. "The Summer King is a threat, and you should by all means be worried about him while we are in his lands; where he has the most control over his element. But he is _not_ the most powerful Sidhe in this world, and he is not the one who is the greatest threat to you if you continue to act without thought to the consequences of your actions." The King nodded towards his foot, clearly making his point known.

Matthew wrung his wet hands together, his eyes wide in foreboding. He didn't want to ask his next question, fearing he knew the answer all too well, but he needed to hear it, to confirm what he'd already been told in his dream.

"Who is the greatest threat against me then… the one I should be the most afraid of?"

The King didn't hesitate to narrow his eyes in a threatening manner, his pale bangs casting a shadow over his face that did nothing to diminish the purple glow of his jewel likes eyes. Ivan leaned forward in a menacing display, careful to enunciate every word clearly. "You have found yourself in a precarious situation that I had very much hoped to avoid. On the one hand…there is no one in this world who is more capable of ensuring your safety than I am. But… there is also _no one_ more dangerous or more powerful… than the Winter King."

Matthew visibly swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from the dark glow that began to surround his only protector and guide.

"I am the one that you need to fear the most."

TBC…

Author's Note:

THANKS SO MUCH TO MY BETA KAYLESSA. You are amazing

Sorry for the delay, I was on course all last week, and then I got sucked into writing a kink meme, but here it is, better late than never.

Also this chapter had a lot going on… so I really wanted to not mess it up, so I took more time to try and get some scenes right.

Next chapter will be MUCH sooner (and probably a bit longer).


	8. The Inescapable Past

**Chapter 8 – The Inescapable Past**

Fog surrounded him every which way and blocked his view from all possible directions. Matthew could tell that it was nighttime, could taste the salt in the air, but that was all he could gather from the bleak darkness. In the distance a keening sound wailed out, it was the sound of ships creaking due to the drop of humidity and the rocking motion of the gentle waves hitting against the dock.

He didn't dare get his hopes up, but yet at the same time it was almost impossible not to. The impossibly green grass beneath his boots, slick with condensation, squeaked as he walked further into the mist. Theoretically Matthew should not have known where he was heading; his steps were as blind as his vision. But no sooner had he began walking forward than the fog lifted before his very eyes and a brightly coloured house could be seen that at once warmed his heart and soul.

He was home.

There were no stars in the sky and the remaining path was only lit by the impossibly large moon high in the sky. Matthew hesitantly placed his hand on the old rusting doorknob. Immediately he sensed that there was something off about the house, something that didn't strike right with what Matthew remembered. The paint looked old and withered and the warm life that one normally felt when they entered an occupied house was missing. It was as if this house had been abandoned for years.

The desire to return overcame any doubt and Matthew carefully stepped into the house, noticing at once the lack of coats and boots that normally lined the hallway.

"A-arthur… are you still here? Arthur… I'm home!" There was no reply.

A foreign sound emanated from the living room and pierced the eerie silence all around him. Matthew quickly rushed off to find its source, stopping only at the entryway when he saw a faint glowing blue line that was traced on the ground between the two doorframes. Inside the room he found that the furniture was left pretty much how he remembered it, although all the normal decorations that had adorned the house were now missing.

There was someone sitting in the old recliner facing the window, effectively blocking his view from Matthew.

"Arthur… is that you?" But it was not, and instead a smiling cherub-like face poked itself around the edge, grinning with humour at the sight of the familiar human.

"Matthew! What a fantastical house you have, I have never seen anything like it!" Feliciano jumped up from where he'd been sitting and chose to seat himself instead on the same couch that Matthew had shared with Arthur only a few short days before.

"W-what are you doing here? Is Arthur here?" Matthew tried to come to grips with what was reality and what was not, but so much of it was mingled strangely in his mind.

The forest spirit titled his head to the side curiously and Matthew was beginning to wonder if this was a nervous reaction of his. "I don't know where Arthur is. But I very much doubt he'd be in your mind, even if this is a stolen scene from your memory past."

Matthew felt relieved to learn that this strange apparition was not in fact his abandoned home, but saddened at the same time that he had not arrived home after all, even with no sensible reason to believe that he had done so in the first place.

But at the same time, this didn't seem like a very accurate memory to him. It wasn't at all how he remembered leaving the house, and there was no way it could have degraded in such a short time. The small Fisherman's house had been a hundred times more comfortable, very much the cozy sort of home that Arthur had always liked to live in.

A strange thought occurred to Matthew as he recalled the spirit's words in his head, but his question was soon stopped when he saw a second head peak shyly out from around the couch. It was a small boy, maybe no more than 2 or 3, with blonde hair that fell in wavy ringlets around his face; his small hands braced themselves against the chair in caution. Matthew might not have at first recognized the child, having never seen any photos from his youth, but the wide blue eyes that stared back at his own were undeniably of the very same shade and proportions.

Feliciano noticed where his gaze fell and he happily picked up the frightened child, trying to comfort him in his arms. "Isn't he adorable? I found him hiding behind the couch! He's had a very interesting few days… and may take some time to recover from them."

The forest spirit's eyes turned sad as he stroked the small red cheek, perhaps even wistful. "I would have taken much better care of him, you know… I would have given him the whole world. But… they took him from me… before I even had a chance to try." The spirit's grip tightened as he hugged the little boy possessively and despite Matthew's fondness for the sprite, the scene unnerved him greatly.

"But… that's me… that little boy is me!" Matthew shook his head questioning his own statement, not entirely sure what to make of everything he was seeing.

Feliciano nuzzled the little boy's cheek fondly, playing with a youthful curl or two before placing the boy back on the ground. The younger Matthew shyly waved goodbye to the sprite, trying to act polite even though he looked about as unsure with the situation as the older Matthew felt. He then ran over to his larger self and wrapped his tiny little hands around Matthew's leg, hiding his head underneath the pant leg and a curtain of his own curls.

Matthew licked his lips with some consideration before picking up the small boy and holding him in his arms. He noticed with some interest that the boy weighed no more than a small dog might and he offered no resistance to the embrace whatsoever as he nestled himself further into his arms. Matthew stared down at the familiar eyes that were filled with trust and love, their former insecurity vanishing the longer he was held securely in Matthew's arms.

"I don't understand," he finally admitted, looking back up at the forest spirit for any form of clarification he could offer. Feliciano's face fell and he appeared genuinely sad and distressed, as if forced to remember a particularly painful event in his life.

"Do you truly not remember any of this my sweet, dear Matthew? Did they tell you nothing of your past… of how you came to be in the Winter Knight's possession, hidden away from the land that you rightfully came to claim and to discover… all on your own?"

Matthew was speechless, the more the forest spirit spoke, the more he was sure that this was nothing more than a fanciful dream that was invading his already weary thoughts.

"Matthew… despite everything they've done… despite how they tried to keep you away from Tir Na Nog… despite how they tried to keep you from… me… you've returned again… again all on your own. Shouldn't that be enough for you to begin to question everything you already know?"

Matthew furrowed his brow, entirely unsure how seriously to take the dream that offered nothing more than illusions and riddles at every turn. The forest spirit walked closer to the doorway and held out his hand for Matthew. He did not cross the entryway but instead was asking for Matthew to make the first move and to join him in the living room with the small bundle that was quickly falling asleep in his arms. Those brown eyes normally so full of mirth looked heartbreakingly filled with sorrow and Matthew did not have it in him to deny such a simple act of comfort. He reached across the door way and took the smaller hand in his own, letting the smile that sprung up on the spirit's face ease his worries, even as he was pulled slowly into the room.

The blue light that had been glowing beneath his feet started to sparkle and fade, being soaked up just as before into his body. But he did not enjoy the feeling for long before a much more 'real' and far more unpleasant sensation struck him from behind and forced him face first into the hard ground.

His surroundings changed in an instant and Matthew moaned out loud at the sudden headache that was already forming from the act of hitting the earth so hard. He looked around with sleep-induced eyes that were once again blurred from his lack of vision.

The nighttime was gone, as was the fog, and it was now replaced with the sounds of some kind of animal chirping in the distance. Dirt was pressed against his cheek and a large immovable object was unwittingly forcing the air out of his lungs as it crushed him from above.

"Get… OFF!" Matthew grumbled, his mood already soured by his rude awaking. But the large King above him made no motion to obey, instead grabbing his chin roughly between his leather clad fingers so as to examine his eyes.

"Are you fully awake now? Are you aware of your surroundings?"

Matthew struggled with frustration, but it was of little use, he had no chance of knocking the powerful man off when he'd had such a good start to begin with. And his efforts soon died off as he felt himself grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen. "I'm awake… just please… I can't breathe."

The King jumped up so quickly that the sudden rush of air to his lungs almost made him dizzier still. Ivan pulled Matthew up by the hem of his coat and brought over to sit on the log. Offering him water from his flask and some strange looking berries before his blurry eyes as he orientated himself to his new surroundings. The dream that had been as real as anything he ever knew was now fading in his mind, details lost and becoming jumbled with other memories.

Matthew wanted to bite out a nasty comment, but he was stopped when he heard a remorseful tone to the King's speech.

"I did not mean to startle you… or to cause you harm."

"Then why did you?" Matthew mumbled under his breath, only mildly placated by the apology. The King was still examining him in great detail and Matthew could make out the details of a frown from their close proximity.

Ivan was clearly worried, but he spoke as indifferent as ever.

"You were in a Faerie trance… and you had broken through the protection of the circle. I was only trying to prevent you from leaving."

Matthew hungrily ate the berries and chased them with a large gulp of water, wiping the trickle of liquid that fell from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. He was ever mindful to how Ivan's eyes followed the unconscious movement intently before quickly directing his gaze back towards the safer territory of a spot of earth beside them both.

"You mean… I was sleep walking?" Matthew asked as he passed back the flask of water to the King.

"No… I do not mean that at all!" Ivan stood up abruptly, annoyed at being questioned. It was not something he was used to and Matthew did it an awful lot. "You were under a spell. I thought the circle would be enough to keep you safe, but it is useless if you can so easily be lured out of it while you sleep."

Matthew had a dark foreboding suspicion that he knew what the King was going to say next.

"The Fall Kingdom is only a few days away… we will have to hurry to evade the Summer King now that he is closer, and sleep… is unfortunately no longer an option." Ivan widened the girth between them, causing his outline to again become a blurry mystery to the young human.

Matthew at once wanted to protest the plan, to complain like an ungrateful brat being denied his dessert… but he knew that if he really was out of his senses, then the King was perfectly right in asking them to push through the last portion of their journey. So he swallowed his pride and hung his head silently, nodding in agreement that he would do as the King asked, just like he'd promised.

Ivan appeared to take pity on him, perhaps surprised at how easy it was to convince the normally contrary young man. "We will still rest when we can… and I will do my best to find more food for you along the way. The closer we are to the border, the more I am beginning to recognize the vegetation."

"Alright," Matthew whispered and then with a stronger voice. "Alright, I said I would trust you, and I do."

Ivan narrowed his eyes in suspicion, clearly not excepting any of this at all. "You do… without question?"

"No… not without question. I'd have to be pretty stupid to do that. But your reasoning makes sense, and you're actually bothering to run it by me for once, which is not something that you've ever actually bothered to do before. So yes, I have to trust you." Matthew wasn't quite sure if it was a trick of the light, his limited vision preventing him from seeing things clearly, but he could have sworn that the King was mildly flustered by his remark.

Ivan's mouth made a few vague movements as if to say something, but for a while nothing sprouted forth until finally, "Then we will make use of the early morning sun while we can. We will rest during the hottest hours of the day and then carry on into the night for as long as we can."

"B-but... my eyes?" Matthew protested, contradicting the very words he'd said not moments before about trusting the King. As hard as it was to make any progress during the day, it'd be even worse at night.

Ivan held out his hand once more, standing tall and impressive in the morning light. "I will have to ask you to trust me a little more then. I do not deny that it will be difficult, but it is our best chance of returning you home. And if what you say about Arthur is true… I would imagine he'd be very angry with me if I did not return you in good health."

Matthew couldn't help but think the King was joking with that last remark, and he smirked ruefully at the idea of his stuffy Guardian attacking the powerful King, and so said as much. "I doubt that Arthur would be very much of a challenge for your kind, especially such a 'great King' as yourself." His tone was teasing, mocking both men equally. But the response he got was a serious as Ivan could make it.

"I disagree… I'm sure he would be a formidable enemy if he had the right motivation… and my Kingdom has enough enemies to deal with as it is.

xxxxxxx

The party of four crossed the border with little to no trouble, a fact that bothered Gilbert greatly. The three horses that they'd chosen to bring with them padded their large hooves across the melting snow, soon stepping on thawing leaves and branches that dripped away any traces of ice.

For the most part Francis had been unconscious thus far; he had woken up shortly after the group had begun their journey to the Spring Kingdom, but upon waking, Francis had made the grave mistake of blearily commenting that Arthur smelled 'just like him' in an all too happy voice. The former knight had promptly raised his stolen sword and smacked the hilt sharply against the back of the prisoner's head, causing him to slump forward again into blissful silence.

Alfred had chosen to keep his distance from Arthur as much as possible, choosing to guard the rear in much the same way that Gilbert headed up the front. While the Kingdom they'd just departed and the one they were currently entering into were not at war and therefore, by their standards, very much a peace, it was still a dangerous choice on their part to cross the border without first expressly asking permission from the Queen herself. An approval that would have been most likely denied save if Ivan had pressed the issue himself.

Alternatively however, if they now came across the Queen while trespassing on her territory, it would be a sticky situation at best and at worst they might accidentally reveal that the Winter King had been spirited away by none other than a cursed human who'd returned from his imposed exile.

No… this was not a good situation for any of them to be in.

Gilbert managed to drop his guard somewhat after the first few hours in the warmer kingdom had proven safe. A quick glance towards Arthur showed that he too was calming his nerves and was no longer as on edge as he had been before. It was after all, not for certain that the Queen would notice their presence, just something they had to be aware of.

The trees around them began to grow thicker, a beautiful display of spring flowers blossoming around them almost as soon as they approached at every turn. The fragrance was a bit strong for those that were used to the clean crisp air of the Winter Kingdom and Gilbert found the atmosphere particularly stifling when compared to the wide-open expanses of his own land, with its subtle beauty and riches that he had long grown to love.

The pale haired regent frowned when he heard an odd chirping sound coming from up ahead. He slowed his horse down in order to approach the small object that was jumping about on a low branch. The creature was like nothing else he'd ever seen before, small and fluffy with golden feathers crowning it from head to toe.

Gilbert unsheathed his Iron sword, a weapon that would strike fear in the very heart of any faerie creature (save Arthur and the King, of course). But when he extended the weapon in order to poke at the small creature, it did not shy away, and instead jumped directly onto the iron, hopping its way down the length of the sword until it was nearly at the hilt.

"Arthur… look at this… what sort of creature is this? I've never seen its like before."

Arthur's horse languidly approached the 'beast', its rider rolling his eyes with an annoyed look at the young Regent. "Honestly Gilbert, if you're going to turn this exhibition into a bird watching trip, I may as well leave you behind now and take Francis off on my own."

Gilbert scowled at the little creature that had by now used its tiny little claws to climb up his leather and cloth tunic until it was well situated on top of his shoulder. Gilbert didn't particularly want to look frightened when Arthur was doing his best to disapprove so condescendingly, but when the little thing started pecking away at his white hair, he swatted at the creature until it fell onto his lap in disarray.

By then Alfred had approached them as well and was peering at the strange creature with about as much interest as Gilbert had, reinforcing his belief that Arthur was under reacting.

"W-what is it Gil? Do you think it's dangerous?"

"Of for the love of… it's a BIRD… a little_ baby _bird! It's no more of a threat than either of YOU two are!"

Twin sets of angry eyes glared back at the former knight before the sad cries of the little bird caused Gilbert to rethink his action of hitting the defenseless creature. He lifted it up into his small hands to confirm that it was ok. "What is it doing here do you think?"

"That…is actually a good question. It's from the human world and even if a bird did manage to survive the portal, one as young as this should have perished without its mother's aid."

"It has… no mother?" Gilbert asked despondently, Alfred's face falling in equal sympathy at the news.

Arthur slapped his face with a single gloved hand, disbelieving that he'd ever left the Kingdom at all in the hands of these two men, even under Ivan's watchful eye.

"It is not natural you fools, it is obviously a trick or an apparition of some sort. I suggestion you run it through immediately before it reports back to its master."

At the mere mention of hurting the little bird, Gilbert drew it close to his chest and Alfred drove his horse in between the Regent and the former knight.

Arthur only raised his eyebrow in distaste, utterly tired of dealing with the two men. "Fine, keep it. Maybe _it_ can tell you where the King has gone." With these last words he prodded his horse into motion again, ready and willing to leave his two companions behind if he had to. But no sooner had he started off in the direction than the little bird started chirping furiously again.

"Uh… Arthur… I don't think he wants you to go that way."

Arthur snorted loudly, moving the horse even quicker. "Well in that case maybe the little pest has some uses after all, I'll be sure to go wherever it doesn't approve."

Alfred scowled and Gilbert could just barely hear him mutter under his breath. "I don't remember him being this much of an ass. Maybe… he should have just stayed away for good."

The little chirps had by now turned into outright cries and Gilbert looked back up at Arthur's retreating form with dismay. "Arthur… I really think…" No sooner had the words left his mouth than Arthur was flung off his horse by a large tree vine. He never even had the chance to hit the ground before a second vine curled itself around his body, holding him high in the air and slowly cutting off his air supply.

Alfred's eyes widened in panic and he frantically jumped off his horse to try and pry the vines open with his bare hands, his sword unfortunately still in the possession of the trapped Fae above them. Gilbert was not far behind him, raising his own sword high in order to cut down the deadly vine that curled tighter and tighter around its victim. But before his iron blade had struck its mark even once, a sweet voice wrung out from the side of a tall particularly flowered tree.

"I would not do that if I were you." The melodic voice commanded in a tone that brokered for no argument.

Gilbert turned in the direction of the voice and brandished his sword at the stranger instead. "Then I'll cut you down first if you do not release him."

Alfred was still digging his fingers through the cracks of the vine, his fingertips bleeding in their efforts to free his former mentor, but it was all to no avail and still the vine grew tighter.

"And who might you be to think that you can give orders to the Queen of Spring?" Green eyes could be seen glowing now from the shadows. The full figure of an exceptionally beautiful woman stepped forward dressed in a long white gown covered by a forest green overlay of cloth with delicate gold trimmings. Her soft brown hair was thick and spun like silk as it reached well past her waist in smooth waves. There was a single green flower, much the same colour as her gown, which was placed securely in her dark locks near by her temple. And as she leaped directly off of the branch that held her fast, her feet never even touched the ground before great tree roots sprung up high to meet her every step, only to then bring her gently down to the earth below. Little flowers blooming after each patch of earth her bare feet walked over.

But Gilbert was undeterred in the least; he raised his deadly weapon high and thrust it perilously close to her pale flawless neck. He noticed with some satisfaction that she flinched minutely at the action and the vines around Arthur let up just enough for him to allow him a single breath of air.

"I am the heir to the Winter Throne, a member of the Seeley court and by rights I will defend an attack on one of my people."

The Queen looked momentarily amused, unaccustomed to displays of brute strength in a world where nearly everyone could use some form of magic. Never removing her bright eyes from Gilbert's, she flicked her wrist absently and the vines around Arthur opened wide to drop him unceremoniously to the forest floor. Alfred just barely dove down in time to catch him before he hit the ground. He laid him gently down in order to check his pulse and dilated eyes that were still spinning from lack of oxygen.

"I have heard words about you… Gilbert of the Winter Kingdom. They say you were born without a trace of magic to your blood. Abandoned by your own mother… and wholly dependent on the only man who would ever dare take you in. Your so-called 'Uncle', a man who can barely tolerate your presence, but does so only for the prestige that it brings him to have in his possession the son of the greatest and most powerful Fae of all time."

Gilbert pushed the blade forward, causing the Queen to take a step back even as she raised her chin defiantly. "I would be careful with your loose words, Queen Elizabeta, for I'm feeling a tad short tempered today."

The Queen nodded her head graciously, as if she were agreeing to a witty comment at the dinner table, and not admitting to defeat against a blade that could easily cut her throat open no matter her aptitude in magic.

"Then answer me this instead and I may yet let you pass unharmed."

Gilbert wearily looked back at his companions, Francis who still lay helplessly unconscious on the ground and Arthur who was just now stirring, coughing greatly as he was helped up by a very angry looking young Knight.

"Fine… if that's your price for safe passage, you may ask."

The Queen's smile widened and she stepped forward to reclaim her dominance of the situation. "Just when, young Prince, had your King intended to inform me that the _human_ child had returned."

TBC…

Thanks again to Kaylessa. You are the best Beta ever

Really sorry about the delay, got a one-shot in my head and I had to write it. But it's out of my system now.

Anyways maybe I answered some questions… maybe I created more… look Gilbird… yay J


	9. The Nature of Men

**Chapter 9 – The ****Nature of Men **

Ivan led them through the thick undergrowth with a confidence that Matthew desperately clung onto in his partially blind state. On more than one occasion he'd been forced to grasp the King's gloved hand with both of his own in order to prevent a particularly nasty fall. But at no time had Ivan wavered in his determination and he had held fast whenever Matthew had needed it the most.

Despite the continued animosity being directed towards him by the sullen King and the awareness that he still might be a lamb being led to its slaughter, Matthew couldn't help but feel just a little bit… grateful.

True to his word, the King had done his best to find him food and water during their short breaks in the last few days of non-stop hiking through the forest. Matthew had not slept for two nights now and was well beyond the point of feeling the wear on his 'delicate human' system as Ivan would have put it. The King didn't seem to require food or sleep, or if he did, he gave a good show of hiding it.

The journey so far had mostly been spent in silence, their short talks usually only leading to some form of bickering or another. And they were both growing weary of fighting, instead preferring to spend their energy on reaching the border as quickly as possible.

But the silence had inevitably led to thoughts of home, something Matthew tried hard not to think about when he could help it. So, he attempted once more to initiate some form of amiable conversation, to distract himself if nothing else, and hopefully make their journey go by quicker.

"This is the Summer Kingdom and back where I arrived here, we were in the Winter Kingdom, right? And now we're heading towards the Fall Kingdom?"

"Yes," Ivan said shortly and without any signs of patience or inclination to answer his questions.

"Then would it be safe to assume that there is a Spring Kingdom?" Matthew asked, taking advantage of his sudden and developing interest in the new world that he was finally beginning to feel a bit more secure in.

"There is," Ivan admitted, albeit reluctantly, before adding. "Although, you will be sure to never see it."

"Why not?" Matthew couldn't help the expression of annoyance that knotted his brow. It wasn't that he had WANTED to see it, but somehow being told that he couldn't, only managed to irritate him.

"Because… we are travelling directly to my land and therefore we will not pass through the Queen's Country. And as I have promised, I will send you home directly. Unless… that is, you have changed your mind and wish to remain?" The barely veiled threat in King's tone wasn't very well hidden at all. Ivan even turned to look back in Matthew's direction, making sure that his words weren't being misunderstood in any way.

Even through the cloudy haze Matthew could make out those shining eyes growing brighter and more dangerous by the second. "N-no, I swear. I want to go home more than anything. Really, the first chance I can get!" Thinking that this sounded a bit rude and went against his efforts to try and make some type of polite conversation, he quickly added. "Not that your world isn't nice, it's just not… really meant for me."

"No, it isn't!" Ivan agreed with a tone that demanded no argument.

Matthew bit his lip absently and wondered if he should just give up now while he could and remain silent for the rest of the trip. But his stubborn side wouldn't allow it, he hated the thought that he'd managed to take a few steps back instead of the forward momentum he'd originally been aiming for.

"How does your royalty work? You mentioned a Seeley court, is that how you decide who will be a King or Queen?"

Ivan grunted loudly in annoyance, losing what little patience he had for the conversation to begin with.

"What does it matter? Why do you care?" Ivan all but snapped out in contempt.

"I was… I was just curious." Matthew looked to the ground in dejection, narrowly avoiding a fall against another hidden tree root. With words barely louder than a whisper, he added with a good deal of regret in his voice. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean anything by it."

Matthew more than expected that to be the end of their conversion, but his somber tone had somehow invoked some kind of rare sympathy from the King. The large man's shoulders dropped and he gave a small sigh of defeat. His grip tightened momentarily and when the King finally spoke it was with an unusually consolatory tone.

"The humans I have met in the past were not 'just' curious, but had long grown addicted to the power we Fae hold in our being. If I am cautious to trust you, it is because I have learnt that hard lesson well from the past. I do not see how you learning any more about my world will do anything but possibly entice you to remain in it."

Despite the King's intended placation, Matthew titled his chin up defiantly. "We're not all the same you know! And I'm not just saying this from ignorance anymore either. I'm starting to figure out exactly what it means to make contact with your kind and I won't lie, the experience is like nothing else I've ever felt before, but I still want to go home. I do have restraint and I'm not a mindless animal, no matter how many times you keep thinking that I am!"

To his surprise the King didn't deny it and instead nodded his head slowly in resignation. "I will admit…you are a strange human, even if you still do not fully understand your abilities in this world. But you have only your own well being to think of; I have that of every man, woman and child that resides in my borders and even of those that do not."

"I know that!" Matthew ground out, losing his own form of patience. "I've realized that much at least. I know that I make your people act weird and you've said that I can as good as destroy a man without trying. But why would you think that I'd want that? I don't want to see anyone die and I did everything in my power to keep Francis away from me. I don't want this, I didn't ask for any of this!" Matthew's voice was quickly becoming choked; he was letting his emotions get the best of him, the fatigue from their journey slowly creeping in despite his best efforts. Ivan must have seen this for his own stern voice calmed considerably and he reached over with his one free hand and placed it steadily on Matthew's shoulder in a surprising effort to ground him.

"You have to understand, I have seen with my own eyes what a weaker human from your land can do. Without any effort at all she easily corrupted the Fall King, one of the greatest Fae of our times. She single handily caused war, death and destruction wherever she went in a land that was meant only for immortals."

"H-how… how did they stop her?" Matthew's eyes were impossibly wide as he swallowed thickly at the intensity and severity of Ivan's words. He tried to ignore the strong grip on his shoulder, feeling for not the first time the awareness of a great power that he'd only just tasted before. A small part of his mind screamed at him to reach up and take what was so perilously easy for him to have, but the temptation was relatively small compared to the ever present fear of what would happen if he did give in to his baser urges.

"I was forced to challenge the Fall King's invasion of the other lands and to deliver his killing blow myself. It was not a task that I had ever wished for by any means. And I would have killed her too, if I could have." His eyes grew brighter and angrier the more he spoke of the events from the past. "I tried… but in the end it was her own human folly that was her eventual downfall. She was desperate for more power and fled into the woods seeking a way into the Summer Kingdom. The creatures there devoured her along with her thirst for power."

"D-devoured." Matthew whispered back, utterly crestfallen and once again frightened by his surroundings.

Ivan squeezed his shoulder, forcing Matthew's eyes to look back up at the large King. "As much as I wish it were otherwise, I do not understand everything about the connection between our two worlds. We crave your mortality, something we are devoid of in the same way that you crave our magic, something you have none of. The mixing of our two worlds has never ended well before, one of the many reasons we sealed off the border after the Fall King's death. And it had served us well… until you came through it."

"Me…" Matthew let go of Ivan's hand and clenched his fists tightly to his sides. Ivan had right about one thing; it had been Matthew who had come here in the first place and not the other way around. As much as Matthew had not asked to come here, they had not asked for him to come either.

"There is something very peculiar about you… something that differs you from your kin." Ivan's expression grew thoughtful as he contemplated the many ideas that he had formulated over the years about the once small boy that had effortlessly crossed the barriers he himself had created. Ivan brought up his hand to gently stroke Matthew's cheek, brushing back a stray lock of wavy blonde hair. "And I would be very happy, if I never learned just what that was."

Their proximity was suddenly closer than it should have been, closer than the King had originally intended. His face softening as he regarded Matthew's confused one below him with an increasing look of longing.

"You claim you are not like her, that you have control, but I still wonder. Would you still deny your nature if you fully understood what was being offered?" The King's voice began to trail off and an aura of soft blue spread over the King, seeping out from his body in a way that teased and brushed against Matthew's senses like waves on a beach, leaving him almost utterly incapable of pulling away, even if he had wanted to.

There was a hunger building in his belly, the same one that had cried out at him when he'd pushed the King away the last time and it was now demanding retribution; silently urging Matthew to just reach up and take what was rightfully his. To steal that which belonged to _him_!

For those few short moments that seemed to last for ages, Matthew's vision was no longer blurred as the powerful magic lapped against his body, testing the limits of his abilities to think clearly. But as Matthew gazed up into Ivan's eyes, shining brighter than ever and losing focus by the second, he was somehow able to steel himself and slowly push the man back a few steps. It was not a violent reaction, but it may as well have been by the way it caused both men to respond.

Matthew was now angry in a way he had not previously thought possible. He was angry at the King for trying to force him into a situation that only attempted to prove the Fae's point-of-view and he was angry at himself for not taking what his body had never known it craved so badly until this week alone.

The action surprised Ivan more than it had Matthew and the King's scowl returned as soon as realization and sense returned to him. Ivan was visibly furious at himself for the momentary loss of control and he at once took claim of Matthew's hand again in as an impersonal way as he could before roughly dragging him off through the forest.

Matthew followed along without protest, silently shuddering to himself in order to calm the jitters that were now racking his deprived body

xxxxx

By the time they stopped midday for a rest, Matthew was close to falling asleep on his feet. The endless walking, the lack of sleep and the combination of everything else was more than taking its toll on the young man. Matthew happily fell to his knees at the bank of the small river and splashed some of its cool water on his face and hair, only too happy to wipe away any traces of sweat and dirt.

Ivan wasn't far off, digging in the ground for some edible roots he'd found and ignoring Matthew more than ever if he could help it. Matthew noted with some interest that the King actually took a few bites for himself this time before looking for some more.

Matthew stared down at his reflection in the water, dirt stained features that shadowed surprisingly bright blue eyes. He stared into them as if he were looking at a second person, an act which brought Matthew back to thinking about the strange dreams he'd been having recently.

The details were murky at best and he could just barely remember talking to a strange man… no it was a spirit, a forest spirit. And there had been a little boy… with bright blue eyes like his own.

"It was ME!" Matthew suddenly cried out, unintentionally jerking back on to his rear. The King spun around entirely surprised by the outburst, his eyes darting about to look for some cause for the cry and when he found none, they narrowed into annoyed slits.

"What was you?" he asked without amusement.

Matthew's cheeks turned red from embarrassment, it all sounded so ridiculous when he said it out loud. "The little boy… in my dream. It was me."

The King sniffed lightly, his chin tilting up to avoid the shorter man's gaze. "Is it odd to dream about one's self? Is this somehow cause for concern?"

"Well no," Matthew admitted. "I mean, of course it's not. But I have never dreamt about being a little boy before. I looked so young and the forest spirit had said that I had been through a lot, it didn't make any sense. But you know how dreams are…" Matthew's voice trailed off uncertainly as he muddled the mixed images and stray words together in his mind.

If possible the King looked even more annoyed, pointedly looking back down at the food he was presenting to Matthew in offering. "No, I do not know how dreams are. Only mortals have the ability to escape reality in such a way."

Mathew bit back the exclamation of surprise and realized at once that he'd never seen the King sleep, or even take a small nap. "So your people don't need to sleep at all then?" It would explain a lot, Matthew thought to himself.

"Of course we sleep, when we need to. We just do not possess the ability to dream. And from what you describe, it sounds unpleasant and so I see no reason for the ability to be so coveted."

Matthew cracked a wry smile despite their current situation; remembering some rather enjoyable dreams he'd had in the past and maybe feeling the need to rub in that he was able to do something the King could not. "Dreams are normally pretty nice actually. I think dreams can be very pleasant if they want to be. There are many nights I would have gladly stayed asleep if Arthur hadn't kicked me out of bed. So your kind covets dreams, do they?" Matthew couldn't help but inquire further, but shortly regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Ivan gave him an odd look, uncomfortable as always when discussing 'human' matters. "Your ability to dream is just another sign of your mortality. Your mortal soul is what causes us Fae to desire to possess you so entirely. We forever crave that which we ourselves inherently do not have." Matthew turned somber at the King's words. "I have lived for thousands of years without a single dream and in that time I've seen many a Fae driven mad that had been granted the ability, no thanks to humans such as yourself. So no matter how 'pleasant' it may be, I'd thank you to keep them to yourself."

There was a tenseness to the King's posture and Matthew further regretted bringing up the subject in the first place even as he tentatively tried to fix the damage his words had inadvertently caused. "I'm sorry your majesty… uh… King Ivan" Matthew wasn't quite certain how to address him. It struck him odd that up until now he'd never bothered to address the large Fae before him. Their conversations had not lent themselves to such pleasantries before now. "I honestly don't mean to continually cause you more stress; you've made it very clear what a precarious situation this is for both of us. I don't understand this part of me that makes you all want to hurt me so badly. And believe me, if I could turn it off I would. I only brought up the dream in the first place because the Forest Spirit had said some things that seemed to be some kind of warning and I just wished I could remember what they were, because I think it's connected to what's going on right now. I just don't know how."

"It doesn't matter what your 'Forest Spirit' told you, you can wait until you are home to ask him. I doubt he would be able to help you in our world anyways." Ivan said this with a good amount of finality which Matthew promptly ignored. There was something odd about the King's comment and although Matthew wanted to let it go like the King was asking him to, he sudden felt the need to press the matter more than ever.

Guilt and doubt were starting to eat its way through Matthew's consciousness. While at first he'd been sure that his fragmented dreams were about as real as any others he'd had in the past, now he wasn't quite so sure. It was the last one in particular that had put him so much on edge, its similarities to what was happening in the real world maybe just a little too much of a coincidence. He was more than hesitant to bring it up with Ivan, especially as it appeared the King had enough to worry about. But mostly it was because he couldn't remember everything about the dreams. And really, what reason did the King have to believe him about anything?

Matthew could just sort of recall the image of a beautiful young man and flashes of places he'd been, both in Newfoundland as well as in Tir Na Nog. But their conversations were mostly a blur and for the most part he'd not given too much thought to the dreams once he'd woken up; until now that was.

"But you said that I was in a trance before, and I remember the Spirit saying he'd be able to help me get out of here and that his forest wasn't going to hurt me."

The King looked down at Matthew with a critical eye, his expression no longer accusatory and now betraying some signs of worry around the edges.

"We don't have any such thing as 'Forest Spirits'," the King told him cautiously. "A spirit or soul, those are mortal ideas, not something we have in the realm of Faerie. The Forest has no spirit, only the Sidhe who rule over it and has a deeper connection to the land than a normal Fae."

Matthew now felt even worse about bringing up the subject than when he'd first started. He guiltily cast his useless eyes downwards in an effort to make himself look smaller. "It was just a silly dream… I shouldn't have taken it so seriously."

But whatever intelligence Ivan had gathered from Matthew's description of the dream, it had been enough worry the King greatly. "This spirit, what did he look like? Did he give himself a name?"

Scrunching his brow together in deep thought, Matthew tried to take the King seriously and remember what he could about the slight man he'd met only a few brief times in his mind. "He had soft brown hair and large auburn eyes, but they didn't shine like yours do, they looked more like mine. His name… it was…" And there he drew a blank.

"Veneziano? Was it Veneziano?" The King had stopped pretending the matter was trivial and was now pressing Matthew on with all the intensity he could. But Matthew only shook his head in the negative; the name didn't ring a bell at all. The King at once appeared measurably relieved and with a great sigh he heaved Matthew up to his feet again from where he sat near the river's edge, ready to start their journey anew.

But Matthew made no motion to move forward, there was something about the name that had triggered a memory after all. "…ziano… ziano…" he mumbled out loud and then just as much as it evaded him, it was all of a sudden clear to him. "FELICiano!" he declared happily, his smile short lived and fading as soon as Ivan's grip tightened painfully on his hand. Those beautiful and dangerous eyes flickered anxiously ever so slightly before hardening with a new resolve.

"Then we are too late… he's already found you…"

xxxx

Author's Note:

My notes have gotten lazier. I'm never sure what to add. I like all the guesses you make in your reviews. It makes me happy to think you are trying to work out the story. For the most part I haven't given enough to give it away, but a few of you have sharp eyes…


End file.
